Four Into Ten Does Go Part Two
by Mardy Lass
Summary: Follows on from Part One. This is where it gets interesting... The Doctor needs help on this one, and finds it in the most unexpected of places... Rated T for VERY STRONG LANGUAGE.
1. Chapter 1

**FIFTEEN**

The Doctor scrambled to his feet quickly, dumping the machine unceremoniously at his Converse. He sped round Bronnin, who was doing her best not to cry.

He stumbled and slid through the dust on his knees up to Fergus, looking at his shirt and the small but catastrophic hole in his side.

"Mister Campbell!" he shouted angrily, slapping at the younger man's face. "No! No no no no no no no!" He sat back, dragging his hands through his hair helplessly. "Not you! No, Fergus, come on!" he begged, leaning over him and putting his hands on his shirt, taking in the hole and the steadily seeping blood.

"Fergus?" Bronnin said quietly, dashing water from her eyes irritably. "Fergus!" she called more sternly.

The Doctor leaned over and felt his neck for a pulse. He kept sliding his hand around, but try as he might, he could not locate one.

"No!" he shouted angrily, making Bronnin jump. "I will _not_ let you die on me! Don't you _dare_!"

He leaned over him, putting his hands to his collar, then his shoulders, huffing helplessly.

"What do we do?" Bronnin whispered, dropping to her knees next to him.

"Mister Campbell!" he cried, then removed his hands from his shoulders, sitting back on his heels. He looked at his hands suddenly, then at Bronnin. He made a fist with his right hand and took a deep breath.

He thumped it down into Fergus's chest. Bronnin whimpered and grabbed his left arm to stop him. He shook her off carelessly.

He did it again. And again.

Fergus coughed and dragged in a breath.

Bronnin leaned over and grabbed his arm, yanking him off and stopping him.

"You've done it!" she blurted.

"Oh – bloody – hell," Fergus croaked.

"Mister Campbell!" the Doctor shouted joyfully. He grabbed his shirt, shaking him and laughing maniacally, his eyes nearly as wide as his mouth.

Bronnin pulled on his arm again.

"Careful!" she cried, and the Doctor let him go.

"_You_!" He erupted with anger abruptly. "What were you thinking? Just what the Skaro were you _doing_?" he shouted.

"Oh, hullo there," he said faintly, putting a hand up slowly. The Doctor grabbed it, squeezing his palm in his. "Ah just… Ah just couldnae face another one of yi so soon," he breathed painfully. "Ah've just got used tae _this_ face o' yurs. Ah didnae want another one on ma watch. Not on _ma_ watch, yi incompetent Time Lord."

"Time Lord…" Bronnin whispered, shocked.

"You…_idiot_!" the Doctor roared, and Bronnin jumped, tears starting in fright. "You stupid, brainless, vacuous – brainless – stupid human _boy_!" he accused.

"Yeah, Ah knoe, Ah think Ah shit maself too," he smiled, his face wan despite the sweat.

"You know I would have survived! You know it wouldn't have mattered! What were you doing? You've only got one life, Fergus, _one_! What could be so important? What could possibly make you do such a stupid, _stupid_ thing like _try to protect someone who regenerates anyway_?" he demanded at full volume.

"Two things," he said quietly, and Bronnin got up quickly, running off into the darkness. "First: it doesnae matter… who needs help… yi just give it cos it's yurs tae give. _You_ taught me that, yi pompous bastard." He breathed for a moment, coughing again. "Second: Ah owe you, man. Several times over."

The Doctor stared at him.

"I still think you're an idiot. And way too human to survive." He pouted for a long moment. "Come on. Get up."

"Ah've got a hole straight through me! Thir's at least two pints o' ma best blood on thi floor, pal, Ah'm no going anywhere." He let out a long, comfortable breath. "This is it, Ah've had enough o' this lark," he said bravely.

"Fergus, if you don't get up, I'm going to have to carry you. How else is Martha Jones going to be able to put you right?"

"Martha's here?"

"She's a TARDIS journey away."

"Yi really think she can-"

"_Get – up_!"

He rolled his head round, then swallowed and looked back at the Time Lord anxiously.

"Ah'm trying, it's just… ma legs arnae working so well," he admitted. The Doctor grabbed his arms, hauling him up and momentarily ignoring the fresh blood spilling out.

He heard the sound of running feet as he got him standing, supporting him and turning him round.

"We found a big blue box, but–" Kickick gasped, her hands to her face. "Oh! Fergus! What happened!" she demanded.

"We need to get back to that box," the Doctor said harshly, walking Fergus along the corridor. Kickick pulled Fergus's jacket tighter around her, following them as they shuffled along.

"Ah don't think–" Fergus began.

"That's right, you _don't_. Stop talking," the Time Lord snapped harshly, but the young son of Alba smiled, his head lolling onto the taller man's shoulder. He let himself be walked.

They reached the doors of the TARDIS and the Doctor looked down to see Bronnin. She was sat, knees up to her chin, arms round them, waiting.

She sprang up and grabbed Kickick's jacket without a word, fishing in the pockets. She found a key and looked at it.

"Is this–?"

"Yes," the Doctor interrupted, and she turned and rammed it into the lock, twisting it quickly and stepping in.

Kickick waited until the Doctor had walked Fergus inside. He gasped and cried out in pain as the Gallifreyan eased him up the ramp.

"Kickick! Shut the door! Lock it!" he shouted, supporting Fergus to the chairs. He felt him get lighter and realised Bronnin was helping under the man's other arm. "Bronnin, hold him," he snapped, letting go of Fergus and turning to the Time Rotor.

He yanked and twirled, pulled and adjusted, and the Time Rotor lethargically rose, the odd, iridescent blue-green light flooding the room quickly. It sped up and the decking began to shudder and groan as the Time Rotor sped up and down faster.

"What's happening?" Kickick demanded over the loud machine noise, running to her sister and helping her to hold Fergus up. "Fergus, don't," she snapped suddenly, slapping his face smartly.

"Thanks," he managed, against the will to let himself slip into unconsciousness.

"Right, help me get him round to his room," the Doctor said, grabbing Fergus and inserting himself between him and the two girls deftly.

They walked him round, the Doctor pushing his door open with his foot, the rumble and judder of the great ship causing them to stagger slightly as they made it across the open space to the bed.

They eased him down, lifting his legs onto the bed and straightening him out.

"Bloody hell, that hurts," he growled, and the Doctor looked at Kickick.

"Get some towels," he said urgently.

She turned and scoured the room, finding a door and hoping it was a bathroom. She ran over, leaving Bronnin to stand next to the bed, staring down.

"Will he be alright?" she whispered, her eyes large and round.

"Yes! We're on the way to a hospital and someone who can help him," he said harshly. "You watch him. I've got to see us in," he snapped, looking down at Fergus once before he hurried from the room.

Bronnin sat on the bed slowly, picking up Fergus's hand and squeezing it.

"Fergus?" she asked quietly.

"Aye," he managed, opening his eyes as Kickick came running back. She sat on the opposite side of him, ripping open his shirt and gasping at the neat hole and blood. She looked at Bronnin, then simply folded the hand towel into four before pressing it to the hole.

"You'll be ok," she said lamely.

"Ah knoe, hen," he said faintly, smiling slightly. "Ah knoe. He's taking us tae find Martha. We'll be alright," he sighed.

"Good," she said firmly.

"But… Yi huv tae do me a favour, you girls," he said quietly.

"What?" Kickick asked, leaning over him. "Oh Fergus, what? What can we do?"

"Yi can… If Martha cannae help me, yi huv tae… yi huv tae make sure either thi two o' yous, or Martha, goes with him," he managed.

"What?"

"If Ah'm no around nae more, yous two huv tae… huv tae look after him," he whispered.

His hand lost its grip on Bronnin's. It fell to the bed.

-------------------------------------------------

"Paging Doctor Jones. Doctor Jones, please attend A&E. Doctor Jones to A&E," the announcement blared.

Martha jumped at her desk, realising she had probably been day-dreaming. She got up, stretched, and felt in her pocket for her pager. She turned it over and realised it had been beeping and stopped in frustration.

"Day-dreaming again, Martha?" she yawned, heading for the door. "You're doing that more and more. Perhaps you need more excitement in your life."

She walked down the corridor, pulling her white coat straight and gathering speed as it sunk in that she was expected in Accident and Emergency.

_Why are they paging me? Surely they have enough staff on down there_, she wondered.

She pushed through the doors to the reception desk and spotted Lynda sat behind it.

"It's me," she said, raising her hands in query.

"Thank God! He's shouting for you and won't let any other doctor near him!" Lynda said, exasperated. Martha felt her heart hesitate.

"Who?" she demanded.

Lynda nodded to the emergency room doors to her right. "Just came in, bullet wound, or so it says. Doesn't look like one to–"

Martha looked to her left to see who was leaning against the doors. She gasped and ran, full-tilt, ignoring Lynda's calls to stop.

She slammed straight into the solidity of a Time Lord, wrapping her arms round him and feeling him lift her off the floor in a trademark spinning hug.

He dropped her back on the floor, but he wasn't grinning. He wasn't even smiling.

"Fergus," he said urgently, turning her and pushing her toward the door.

She gasped again, then shook herself.

"Right. Fergus first, you later," she said professionally, barrelling through the door. "Any hints?"

"A Krimmanhellanian Peacekeeper Mark IV, firing fine-fractured stimulated energy packets, from about twenty feet," he said simply. She blinked at him. "Super-heated blobs of light," he said quickly.

"Got it. Stay here," she ordered, and the doors swung shut behind her.

The Doctor turned and looked at Bronnin and Kickick, simply staring at him.

Lynda got up and walked over slowly.

"You're… you're her friend? The Doctor?" she asked helpfully.

"I am."

"She said you'd gone home to Ireland," she ventured.

"Long story," he bit out.

"Hmm. We have a waiting room. It has coffee," she offered, waving her hand toward a large white set of double doors.

"Coffee?" he prompted, hanging his tongue out suddenly in disgust. "Haven't you got any tea?"

"Well–" Lynda began.

But Bronnin suddenly reached out and slapped at his chest painfully.

"You!" she seethed. "In there, now!" she ordered.

He didn't argue.


	2. Chapter 2

**SIXTEEN**

Bronnin pushed the Doctor into the room and hardly waited for her sister to slip in behind her before she slammed the door. She turned, studied the door handle, and then bent over to whip the lock round quickly.

She straightened and turned, putting her hands on her hips and pinning the Doctor with a gaze that could have turned butter to vapour.

"Now you explain what you were doing, going back for that machine," she said, unexpectedly calmly.

"I had to know more about it," he said easily, letting his hands slide into his pockets and watching her.

"And why did you _have_ to know more about it?" she demanded coolly.

"Because there's something not right about this whole thing," he said. His eyes turned large and severe, and she almost hesitated. "The whole two machines thing, and one of them not working, and the whole idea of using it for producing energy – it's all wrong. It's all fake. Something fake about the entire Krimmanhellanian Dominion of Solidarity and Unity," he said.

"It's not the only thing around here that's _fake_, is it?" she snapped, ignoring her sister's look of confusion. "You're the biggest fake of all, aren't you, Doctor Campbell? Is that even your real name? Or will it disappear the same way as that charming accent of yours?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but she advanced on him, standing close enough to poke him in the chest stiffly.

"You need to understand why I'm so angry," she snapped. "After Father died I thought all the light had gone out of the universe – there _was_ nothing out there, there _were_ no amazing places to see, all my hopes had burst like a child's balloon. And then _you_ turned up," she snapped, jabbing harder at his shirt. "And you made me think there was magic behind every star again, that there could be beauty in watching atmospheres ignite waking suns, every morning above far away planets. You were the greatest, most amazing, most special thing I'd ever found in my life. I believed you. I _loved_ you."

"It's still me," he said quietly. She paused, watching him.

"Is it? I wonder," she whispered. She cleared her throat. "It is entertaining to watch the smaller, more dense aliens around you? Is this why poor Fergus is here? To amuse you? To give you something to feel superior to!" she demanded, but her voice was hoarse.

The Doctor's face simply melted into a sympathetic half-smile, bending up at one side. He took a deep breath, then looked around the room slowly, rocking back on his heels.

He looked back at her, and his face was nothing but sad.

"He's here because without someone to show it to, it means nothing," he said patiently. "I've seen the most beautiful, incredible things in _several_ universes." He peeled her finger away from his shirt, closing his fingers round hers tightly. "I've seen pulsars setting off new forms of life on infantile planets. I've seen the rings of Saturn on _fire_ after a meteor storm. I was there when the first amoeba split by accident on Gertarli Prime," he said, his voice quiet but urgent.

She let out a breath, unable to look away from his omnipotent gaze.

"I've seen a sun boil into a black hole, wiping out an entire system, only to be replaced several million years later by a larger, brighter star. But so what?" he breathed sadly. "So what? Who cares what I've seen? I have no-one, Bronnin, _no-one_, and _nothing_. Everyone I knew, everyone I cared about, everything connected to my home and my system is gone." He lifted his eyebrows resignedly as he continued. "And it's never coming back," he added, shaking his head sadly. "All I've got is a ship, a faint reminder of a time when I had family and I had a real home under my feet. Of academies and universities, of birthday parties and musical bands, of tin dogs and McCrimmons, of replacement screwdrivers and friends from my own world who _knew_ and _understood_."

He paused and she swallowed, not trusting herself to speak.

"He's here because it amuses _him_ to be here. Because there's _nothing_ more important, more precious, than Time itself. And he decided to put his Time in my hands. There's nothing I won't do for him, or show him, because he's give me his _Time_. And that's all I'll ever have – snap-shots of how _they_ see the Universe as scary, or fun, or this big awesome thing we can play in, instead of how I see it. I get pieces of _other people's_ lives, chunks of _someone else's_ Time, spent on me. It's all I've got, and I can't even see it or touch it or smell it or bottle it, or even measure how it disappears. But it's all I've got."

Bronnin stared up at him, then put a shaky hand over her mouth. It was quiet for a long moment.

"I'm so sorry… I didn't – didn't…" she whispered.

He smiled kindly, letting his head shake but making sure his eyes stayed with hers.

"There's no need," he said quietly, letting go of her hand to take her other one from her face. "You had no idea. No-one ever does. Just me."

"It _is_ still you," she said, closing her eyes and putting her arms round him. She felt his arms round her shoulders tightly and squeezed him. She let out a long, steadying breath.

"There you are, you see?" he asked cheerfully. "Everyone feels better for a hug." He paused, and she sniffed back her tears, determined not to cry. "And tea, actually," he added suddenly.

He looked over and found Kickick sitting down slowly on the chairs provided at the side of the room. She had leaned forward and her head was in her hands.

"Kickick?" he asked quickly, and Bronnin pulled away from him to turn and look at her.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, not moving her hands. "But… Fergus is going to die, isn't he?"

"No," he said firmly. "He's not. There are only three people I trust to perform the kind of surgery needed on him, and Martha Jones is one of them," he said confidently. "He'll be fine."

"Don't humour me," she grumbled.

"Do you want the gory details?" he snapped. "A shot like that _will_ kill a human – after about fourteen hours of bleeding and water loss. The guard was aiming low cos he didn't realise Fergus is human – so he actually hit him in completely the wrong place to do any lasting damage. Martha Jones will patch up the holes, and he'll be hobbling round in a few days."

Bronnin looked back at him.

"Next time, you could think about smoothing that with a little sugar on top," she said calmly, but her gaze was unamused.

"Just trying to put things in perspective," he shrugged.

"So if you're not who you say you are, what is Fergus?" Kickick asked, raising her head. Bronnin walked over and sat slowly next to her, taking her hand.

"Oh, trust me, Mister Campbell is _exactly_ what he says he is. He _is_ from a city – on this planet, actually – called Glasgow. He _has_ been travelling with me for… ooh, just over an Earth year now, I think. And he _is_ a very, very good friend. But he's not my son." He paused, watching her face.

"I knew that," she sighed. "I don't know why. But I knew that. So… when are you going to explain that… that big ship? The one inside the small box?" she asked vaguely.

"It's just a big one inside a small one, that's all," he said cheerfully. "Anything else?"

"Are you… are you really a Time Lord?" Bronnin asked suddenly. Kickick looked at her, shocked.

"A what?" she demanded. The two girls looked at him.

"Yep. That's me. The Time Lord," he said simply.

"But… we've heard of the Time Lords. A long, long time ago," Bronnin said quietly. "They say… they say they did so many amazing things. They protected Time itself," she whispered.

The Doctor shrugged. "They also argued a lot and then got plastered in local pubs," he said dryly, pulling on his ear.

"Where did they go?" she dared. "Where did they hide all that knowledge about Time, and space, and… and all the amazing machines and breakthroughs and –"

"They didn't," he said abruptly. "They're gone. All of them. It's just me."

"You're the only one?" Bronnin asked.

"Yep. Just me. _Well_, me and the TARDIS – the old girl you met before. She's really tall and really wide – and blue," he smiled pleasantly.

"But–" Bronnin began. The door rattled and they looked over, before Kickick got up and skittered over quickly, unlocking it and pulling it open.

It was a nurse.

"Which one of you is Kickick?" she asked politely. She raised her hand lamely and stepped forward. "Then please come with me," she said abruptly.

Bronnin reached out and squeezed her arm before Kickick turned and looked at the Doctor accusingly. Then she followed the nurse.

The door swung shut and Bronnin blew out a long breath, wandering back to the seats and lowering herself into one unceremoniously.

She leaned forward, put her elbows on her knees, and then her chin in her hands.

"He'll be alright," the Doctor said comfortably.

"Will he, though?" she asked pointedly, looking up at him. "How long have you been doing this? How many friends have you had?"

"Enough to know that, whatever happens to Mister Campbell, I have to go back and get that machine," he said.

"What?" she demanded.

"I left it behind." He looked momentarily annoyed with himself. "It's probably still lying on the floor of that station, next to the guard you whacked over the head."

"I still don't believe I did that," she moaned, rubbing her face in her hands.

"I should watch out for you – you're a crack shot with a shovel," he said honestly, and she stopped rubbing and just looked at him.

"Oh stop it," she managed, almost smiling. "So this ship of yours, this big box in a small one – could it tell us about this machine?"

"Everything," he said firmly. She nodded.

"Right then. We should get going, get back for it right now," she said, getting to her feet.

"I think we should wait to see Martha Jones first," he said wisely.

"Why?"

"She knows more than she's letting on," he said thoughtfully. "She told me to let him pick, and I let him pick. She asked me if I had 'it', and I didn't – I think she meant the machine, looking back. Strange how she didn't ask me–"

She watched his face look surprised.

"Oh! What's the date?" he asked, crossing to the side table and the magazines on it. He picked one up, spying the name and the month. "2007? Is this an old magazine or –"

The door opened again and Kickick and the nurse appeared.

"He's going to be alright," she said, relieved, and Bronnin crossed the room to her, hugging her tightly.

"Told you," the Doctor said smugly. The nurse looked at him.

"You're the Doctor?" she guessed. He nodded. "Then you must stay here to talk to Doctor Jones before you leave," she said.

"Will do," he grinned.

-------------------------------------------------

Martha walked out of the operating theatre, pulling off her green hair cap and wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She paused to stretch, then took a deep breath and headed to the waiting room.

She pushed the door open quietly, looking in to find two dark-skinned, gold-lined girls asleep on each other on the chairs. They had pushed them together, and were now draped over them very comfortably indeed. She wondered idly which planet they were from.

She looked over at the Doctor. He was sitting bent over, staring at the carpet, his hands round a small plastic cup of standard-issue tea.

"Hey," she said warmly, walking in and letting the door close behind her.

He looked up quickly and now he did grin, very widely, in fact.

"Hey yourself," he said cheerfully, watching her walk over and sit next to him. She watched him sit up and look at her expectantly.

"He's fine," she said quietly. "He'll need a lot of rest, but actually those guns you talked about cauterise most of the damage they do. He was lucky."

"Yeah," he allowed, looking away suddenly.

"What happened?" she asked carefully.

"He was stupid," he said dismissively. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"That's charming, _mister_," she tutted. "You're supposed to say 'he nearly died and I would have really missed him'," she pointed out.

"He wouldn't have died," he said confidently, putting his left hand out and slapping it down on both of hers brightly, shaking them happily. "I knew you'd see to him."

"Really?" she asked. She leaned against his side and reached over, taking the plastic cup from his hand. "Then why has your tea gone cold?"

"Uhhm… It was cold to begin with?" he hazarded, and she smiled.

"So tell me what's going on. From the beginning," she said.


	3. Chapter 3

**SEVENTEEN**

Fergus opened his eyes and blinked at the white ceiling. He thought for a long moment, then turned his head to look around slowly.

"Fergus!" Kickick grinned, getting up from the chair by the door and crossing to his bed. She took his hand and squeezed it warmly. "How do you feel?"

"Like Ah've been hit by a truck," he grunted, though he managed a smile for her. She giggled, and he watched her. "Och, are _you_ a sight fae sore eyes," he sighed, pleased. "Where's that doctor then?"

"Which one?" Kickick said, her smile fading. "You might have told us the truth, Fergus."

"Oh," he managed. "Well, yi see, it –"

"It doesn't matter now. Bronnin has gone with him."

"Gone with him? Where?" he asked quickly.

"They're going back to get the machine."

"What!" he coughed, trying to sit up.

"Don't," she said quickly, pushing him back down.

"Yi mean tae tell me he left it thir!" he cried angrily, "After Ah bloody well stopped him fae getting shot! That useless bloody –"

"He left it there to save you, Fergus," she said sternly, pushing him down firmly. "Now my job is to make sure you rest until they come back," she added, as the door opened.

"Fergus, are you causing trouble?" Martha asked, smiling at him. He looked at her.

"Oh, hullo hen! Long time no see," he said.

"Don't get me wrong, but _not_ seeing you would have been better," she said dryly, walking over to the bed and sitting next to him. She folded her arms, leaning back in the chair. "Now tell me. What made you try and save one of his lives?"

"Oh don't _you_ start," he grumbled. Martha smiled.

"Look, don't worry. He thinks I'm in here watching you and giving you a lecture about the futility of what you did. I'm just going to say I understand, but next time, think about it," she said with a smile.

Kickick looked at her.

"Have you travelled with this 'Doctor' too?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," she said warmly. "To tell you the truth… sometimes it was the best time of my life," she admitted.

"And when it wasn't?" Kickick pressed.

"It was the _second_ best time of my life – and I wouldn't trade it for anything," she grinned.

"_You_ never got shot," she pointed out.

"No, but… Well… I had a few close shaves," she allowed, much more seriously. "But if there's one thing the Doctor is good at, it's looking after others. Bronnin will be alright," she said firmly.

"As long as she has her spade," Fergus sighed.

-------------------------------------------------

"This thing is amazing," Bronnin grinned, hanging onto the ramp railings as the TARDIS smacked down back into real space-time.

"Yep," he agreed with a big smile, locking off levers and switches before bouncing down the ramp quickly. "Right. _You_ – stay behind me," he said, suddenly very serious.

"But –"

"Stay," he said, pointing a long index finger at her in warning as she ran down the ramp and collided with his shoulder.

She closed her mouth and watched him turn to the doors, opening one and looking out carefully. He whipped back in again.

"Right," he said determinedly. "All I have to do is run out, grab it, and run back."

"You," she said flatly.

"Well it doesn't take two people to –"

"Just hurry up," she said, pushing him back toward the open door. He stumbled out and into the empty corridor.

He tugged his shirt straight smartly before looking around him carefully.

"Go!" she called.

"Hmm," he rumbled, his eyes narrowing as he looked around.

He spotted the machine, still mostly covered by his dinner jacket, on the opposite side of the corridor. He looked around again, then walked over slowly.

He crouched next to the machine, putting his hands to the jacket.

"Alright! Don't move!" came a male voice. He paused for a long moment, then sighed.

"Can I stand up?" he asked pleasantly.

"Slowly." This was a woman's voice, harsh and unimpressed.

"Thanks," he said brightly, straightening and turning to put his hands in his pockets slowly. He looked round at the source of the voices.

It was, as he had suspected, the Premier of Krimmanhell, and several armed guards.

"Evening," he offered politely.

"So it _was_ you who stole it," she said, folding her arms. "Nicely done. I have to say, it was really hard to leave it sat there all this time, until you came back for it. Although I am curious why you left it there. Something to do with the large pool of blood we found near it?"

"_Every_thing to do with the large pool of blood you found near it," he said harshly.

"You seem unaffected though," she said, eyeing his still-white shirt and evening trousers. "What happened, the dress shoes pinch?"

"What is it with you women and shoes?" he demanded, throwing his hands up in the air. "What's wrong with these shoes?" He let his hands down and plunged them in his dimensionally-challenged pockets. "I _like_ these shoes – I _love_ these shoes and forgive me for saying but these shoes are the best things in the universe for doing _this_!" he cried, frustrated.

"Doing what?" she demanded.

There was a buzzing sound and his right-hand pocket glowed blue for a split-second. The moment she realised this, he was already snatching up the machine.

"Shoot him!" she shouted angrily.

He turned, the machine and his dinner jacket bundled in his hands. Clicks and power whines went off, but no rounds.

"Jammed!" someone hissed, and she slapped the nearest guard on the shoulder.

"Then grab him!" she shrieked.

They shouldered the useless rifles and converged on the Doctor. He was already sprinting back to the door of the TARDIS.

He threw himself at the open door. His foot caught the lip and sent him sprawling.

He had a horrible vision of the machine being crushed under his weight. Everything and everyone was blown out into space and only the TARDIS still lived.

But hands swept it from his grip as he whirled past them. He landed heavily, spread-eagled on his chest, the wind knocked out of him.

He heard the door of the TARDIS slam and the scrape of the universe's most impregnable defence sliding into place.

_Thank Rassilon for Chubb locks!_

"Get us out of here!" Bronnin called at him.

He clawed himself up to his knees, still trying to breathe. She set the machine down carefully, putting her hands to his elbow. There came a loud banging sound from the door.

"Open this door!" the Premier shouted.

"Not by the – the hair on my – chinny-chin-chin," the Doctor coughed, yanking at a lever.

The TARDIS jumped and shivered, and Bronnin clutched at his arm to stop herself from hitting the grating. She felt the ship move and grind under her feet, and then it suddenly went smooth.

She let go of his arm slowly, grasping the Time Rotor console. He coughed and straightened slowly, looking at Bronnin.

"You alright?" he asked quickly.

"Fine," she smiled. "Is this how you live your life?"

"Pretty much," he grinned. Then his face dropped. "Where's the machine?"

"Over there," she said, turning and walking over to it. She crouched but didn't touch it. "Lights are still on, you can see them through the casing," she said helpfully.

"Oh I know they're still on," he said, walking over. He bent over and picked it up slowly, taking the jacket off and tossing it carelessly to his left. Bronnin noticed it landed on a support beam neatly.

He walked back toward the console thoughtfully, watching the lights.

"So you know what this is?" she asked, following him as he stopped by the main console.

"I have my suspicions," he said, sounding a little pre-occupied as he stopped and carefully set the machine down between his feet.

"And they are?" she asked. "Professor Marm told you it was a Time machine, and you said it wasn't. You said it was a Dark Matter machine."

"Correct," he said, crouching over it and unlatching the casing slowly. He peered inside.

"And they're used for producing energy."

"Yep," he said abruptly, putting his hands on his knees and standing again. "So where is all the energy that this one is producing, going?" he asked cheerfully, looking at her. "And more to the point, what is fuelling it?"

He turned, looked at the main console, and then suddenly disappeared under it. She walked over quickly to see what was happening.

He was crouching under the main console, pulling out small wires and coughing and waving his hand at the small clouds of acrid smoke accompanying the cables in his hand.

"Right," he said, turning and crouching by the machine like some kind of crazed amphibian. He thought about it, then stood quickly, turning to look at Bronnin. "Here, hold these – and don't drop them!" he cried.

She grabbed the two cables, looking at them with interest as he turned and raced off. It was silent for a few minutes, and then she heard him calling before he was visible, pounding down some imaginable corridor out of sight.

"And don't let them touch each other!" he was shouting, when suddenly he ran in again. Bronnin just watched him with a delighted grin as he raced over, a stethoscope round his neck and two small adapter clamps in his hands. "Got it," he said.

He took one cable from her and twirled the end of the bared wire quickly, shoving it one of the clamps and closing it with a snap. He did it with the other wire too before crouching by the machine again.

"Right, stand back," he said loudly, and she took a hasty step closer to the railing behind her.

"Is it dangerous?" she asked fearfully.

"No, you're in my light," he pointed out, attaching one cable to the machine slowly. He snapped it on firmly and pulled over the other one, applying the catch on the top to that of the clamp.

There was a pop and a fizz from something close to the monitor by the Time Rotor, and he turned quickly, leaning over the large console and pushing small levers hastily.

"Gotcha!" he shouted, grinning. "Ha!"

"What is it?" she asked, walking closer slowly. The Doctor leaned back, grabbing the monitor and swinging it round to face them.

"This is no ordinary Dark Matter machine," he said seriously. "And it's not here because someone made it to do this, or designed it for this, or in fact wanted it to be here. It's the original one. And it's still working. Which means…"

He took a deep breath, letting his hands slip into his pockets as he looked at her calmly. But Bronnin could feel storm clouds drawing in.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, and she looked up at him with trepidation. "I am so sorry."

"Tell me," she said bravely.

"Because it means that… that Krimmanhell – that _universe_, all of it," the Time Lord said slowly, "should not exist. It's a parallel one, created by accident."

He watched young Bronnin, so intelligent, so alive, turn and pin him with a look of horror.

"And when this machine no longer gets the energy it needs… it all disappears," she finished for him.


	4. Chapter 4

**EIGHTEEN**

Martha carried the tea up to her room slowly, handing one to Kickick. She was watching Fergus sleep peacefully, almost completely recovered.

"I hate to say this," she said quietly, and Martha looked at her warily.

"What?"

"Well… it's been three weeks. He _is_ coming back, isn't he?" she asked. "Only… how long does it take to get back to the station and pick up a machine?"

"You have to understand something, Kee," she said kindly. "He doesn't live his life in a linear fashion. Plus… well, sometimes he overshoots a date by a day. Or few."

"By three weeks?" she dared.

"Possibly," she nodded. She sighed and Kickick looked back at Fergus. "Look, tell you what," she said, putting down her tea and picking up her jacket. "I'll get some chips. That'll cheer Fergus up. He likes chips."

"Oh! The hot potato sticks?" she asked eagerly, and Martha nodded with a grin. "Then can I have some? Only, not with the fish. Do they have the other one, the sausage thing?"

"I'll get you a saveloy," she winked, and left the room.

-------------------------------------------------

"How does it do that? Exactly?" Bronnin asked him, putting a hand to her forehead.

The Doctor simply stood, watching her wisely, as she wiped her hands over her face and huffed.

"This machine was supposed to produce energy using Dark Matter. But whoever's switched this on didn't know how to use it properly. Instead of producing energy, it went about creating a universe as a parallel. That's what Dark Matter does when you can't control it, it bends energy and uses it up."

"But this can't be a parallel universe!" she cried, confused. "What about me? I've been living in it – and all of my family – all my life! Am I a 'parallel person'?"

"No," he said clearly. "No, you're not." He paused, thinking, before his face rose and fell with inspiration, and the impact of the consequences. "How long have you been trying to get to Glasgow?" he asked sadly.

"A year," Bronnin whispered. "When Father was alive…"

"When Father was alive, there _was_ no Glasgow, was there?" he asked gently.

She turned and looked at him.

"You mean this hasn't been running since – but–"

"Nah, this has only been on about… ooh, three years?" the Doctor hazarded, scratching the back of his head. "Which is why they _suddenly_ found a new planet. And that planet had to be named after something, didn't it?"

"So why call it Glasgow?" she asked, confused. "How could they know of Fergus's city?"

The Doctor smiled apologetically, then turned and looked at the monitor on the centre console, his eyes scanning over it quickly.

"Put an infinite amount of monkeys in a room with a typewriter, and one of them will produce the first act of '_Much Ado About Nothing_'. Or," he said suddenly, sticking a finger in his eye to rub it thoughtfully, "just name it after the first two scientists to spot it: Glassinet and Gowwi."

"And how do you know _that_?"

"The history of the path that should never have been taken, downloading right now," he said grimly, waving a hand at the cables attaching the machine to the console. Bronnin swallowed.

"So we're on borrowed time?" she asked gingerly. "When that machine stops, all this ceases to be?"

"Ah… yep," the Doctor said sadly. "_Well_, that bubble of parallel universe ceases to be. It's approximately…" He paused to turn and look at the monitor again, wrinkling his nose as he read it and thought about it. "It's about one point one two AU wide – about a hundred and five million miles. And it's spreading out towards Romm."

"So we just magically find ourselves back on Romm? Romm of three years ago?" she asked slowly, trying to get her head round it.

"No. You find yourselves floating through the same _space_, at the same time – just without a Glasgow to stand on," he said grimly.

She stared at him.

"So who made this?" she dared. "Who could have done it?"

"More to the point," he said darkly, "Why?"

-------------------------------------------------

They landed the TARDIS next to the bushes across from the hospital, leaving the machine plugged in. They crossed the lawn easily and walked in through the large entrance.

"Er, it's this way, I think," Bronnin said, heading off to her left. They walked on through the hospital, coming to Fergus's room.

The Doctor knocked loudly and then simply opened it, swinging in on the doorknob and grinning.

"We made it, and we've–. Oh," he said suddenly.

"What?" she asked poking her head in. "Where is he?" she said quickly, finding the room without a patient, or indeed any sign of there having been one.

"Er… don't know," the Time Lord said, biting his lip and brushing past her out of the room again.

He walked halfway down the corridor before he turned gracefully and walked back. He put his arm round her waist to pull her from the doorway she was still staring through, and then turned her round to walk with him to the reception desk.

"Hello," he said cheerfully to the girl on the desk. She looked up. And bored.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

"We're looking for a friend of ours – Campbell, Fergus, Mister," he said politely. "Came in here earlier today, funny kind of gun shot wound thing," he added.

"Really?" she asked, looking down at her computer. "I've got… no-one by that name, sir."

"What?" Bronnin asked, surprised. "He was just here!"

"Not according to the computer," she said tartly. "Anything else?"

"Yes," the Doctor said quickly, putting his hands on the counter. "Can you search for _any_ Fergus Campbells you've had in here?"

"Do you know his NHS or NI numbers, sir?" she asked.

"His what?"

"Does he have an NHS number? Or a DSS number?"

"I haven't a clue, is it important?" he asked, baffled. "Can you not just look for his name? We were just here this morning, and he was in room – er – that one," he said, gesturing to the corridor with his head. "We've just got back here and he's gone."

She tutted to herself and looked down again, her fingers hammering at the keys. She looked surprised.

"Oh, well… we _did_ have_ a_ Fergus Campbell," she said. "But that was two months ago. Are you related?"

"I'm his – uncle," he said quickly, reaching into his pockets, searching. "Oh blimey, it's in my other trousers," he hissed. "Sorry, no business card."

"Two months ago?" Bronnin cried, confused. "But we were –"

"Thanks for your help then," the Doctor said quickly, taking her arm and gently pulling her round and away from the desk. The receptionist watched them walk out of the hospital with narrowed eyes.

They stepped outside and Bronnin pulled her arm free from his grasp.

"What's going on?"

"Dark Matter," he said decisively. "When we had it connected to the TARDIS, it played merry hell with the timing. We've arrived two months after we left."

"What?" she spluttered, staring at him. "Don't be ridiculous! You can't travel through–"

"Time Lord?" he interrupted, and she closed her mouth, nodding. "So we're two months late," he sighed, thinking.

"So where are they?" she asked eventually, but the Doctor was already walking across the road, waving a hand at a taxi.

"I have a very good idea," he said easily, as a maroon Vauxhall Omega suddenly flicked off its taxi light and pulled over at their side of the kerb.

-------------------------------------------------

Martha heard the doorbell go and patted Fergus on the shoulder, putting down her mug of tea and going to the landing. It rang again and again as she pounded down the stairs.

She reached the front door and swung it open.

"At last! We've been waiting _ages_!" she giggled, grabbing the Doctor in a hug. The Doctor set her down and guided Bronnin into the house too. "Although, to be fair, I just saw you at the chip shop yesterday," she giggled.

"That was yesterday?" he asked, surprised. "So yesterday you told me to let Fergus pick and set all this off?"

"Apparently," she nodded. "Why?" she added, watching his face become troubled.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," he said quickly. "Just smacks of a pre-destined paradox, that's all."

"Well whatever – did you really get it, this time?" she dared.

"Charming!" he protested with a smile. "I manage to get the machine – thanks to my footwear – and you make out I'm unreliable!"

"I'm not even going to ask, mate," she said, following them up the stairs and back to her flat.

The Doctor walked in to find Bronnin and Kickick reunited, hugging and laughing.

"And here he is! All fit and ready for action?" he called over at Fergus.

He was sitting in Martha's chair, using her laptop. He turned in his seat.

"Oh at last," he grinned, "someone thit can tell me hoe tae get through tae thi UNIT records archive."

"Don't you dare," the Doctor said warmly, walking over and landing a heavy hand on his shoulder. "And I hope you've been nice to her mother."

"Och, yi wouldnae believe it Skipper – her mam thinks Ah'm her new man!" he chuckled.

"Even though poor Kee here has had to live pretty much trapped in this flat, I think we've survived," Martha put in dryly.

"Right then – there's something in the TARDIS that I think you lot will want to see," he said.

Martha eyed him.

"It's not good, is it?" she asked darkly. He sniffed, thinking before he looked at her.

"It's alright. _Well_, it's not bad. _Well_, it's not… sort of… _all_ bad," he said lamely.

"Right," she said heavily, unconvinced. "Ok then – let's get back. I'd like to see how she's been holding up against your crappy maintenance," she teased.

"Oi!" he protested.

Fergus just stood and snatched up his coat.

-------------------------------------------------

He unlocked the door and let the entourage in, following them and shutting the door quietly.

He explained as they stood around, watching the machine still connected to the TARDIS as it sat on the grating, looking innocuous.

"So we've got the machine, and we're definitely not interfering with it for now, so we've – and – _what_?" he asked Fergus suddenly, noticing he was staring at him.

"What do we do wi' it?" Fergus asked quietly.

"He's right," Bronnin said, looking up at him from her slouch against the main console. "We have to decide. Do we keep it running, or do we switch it off?"

"Keep it running," Fergus said immediately.

"Switch it off," Martha interrupted.

"I'm sorry, which one of us is the Time Lord here?" the Doctor said mildly, but Fergus heard the edge to his voice.

"Look, yi cannae just switch it off and–"

"We'll have to," the Doctor said loudly, drowning him out. "If we don't and it does continue to run, the bubble will just go on spreading and spreading. It'll begin to envelope surrounding planets – Romm being one of them – and then carry on until it collapses in on itself. It can't operate forever."

"The Doctor's right," Martha said quietly. "We can't let it just sit there making the situation worse."

"But hold on noe, if we–"

"Fergus," Kickick said sadly, and he looked at her. "They're right. I know why you're doing this, but believe me, they're right."

"But what aboot all thi people doon on those planets?" he said urgently. "Skipper, we'll be alright hir in thi TARDIS, but what aboot everyone else?"

"The only people affected will be people on Glasgow – and we know there _aren't_ any people on Glasgow, not yet. Everyone else will be in the same place, the same time, with just the shifting reality to contend with. They'll be the same," he allowed. "Just… different."

"How?" Kickick asked professionally.

"You told me about the Klyst system and the war out there, do you remember?" he asked.

"I do. You said they should have been at peace."

"Exactly. Little things will be strange, or different. But the Krimmanhellanian system will still physically be here."

"So… basically… nothing will change except our application to Glasgow will not exist, because neither will Glasgow?" Kickick added.

"And…" The Doctor paused, looking at Fergus sadly. "And if you're not in the TARDIS when we switch it off…" He paused, watching Fergus with large, worried eyes, "all your memories of what it was like when it _was_ on… will be erased too."

"Ah _knew_ it!" Fergus cried angrily, pointing at the Doctor with fiery accusation, and Martha jumped slightly. "Ah bloody well _knew_ it!"

"Mister Campbell, that universe and the Krimmanhellanian system was never supposed to be here like this," he said patiently. "When the machine goes offline, and that bubble it's created disappears, only the TARDIS–"

"Ah don't care, man!" he shouted, enraged. Kickick lost her hold on his hand as he took a step toward the Time Lord, pointing still. "Ah've found her! Ah've found ma one girl this time, and Ah'm not letting _you_ destroy it!"

They looked at each other for a long moment.

"Fine," the Doctor said cheerfully. "Ok."

"What dae yi mean, 'ok'?" Fergus demanded, still angry.

"I mean fine. Stay outside, if you want. You'll remember, of course. You weren't in the field when this whole thing developed. _You'll_ remember," he said pointedly, and Fergus realised his gaze had flicked to Kickick and then back to him. "Stay. If you want. Can't think it'd make much diff–"

"Ah can stae?" Fergus asked, surprised. "And nothing will be oot of whack?"

"What's one tiny lump of memory from the wrong universe in the grand scheme of things?" the Doctor allowed, but Bronnin thought she detected false cheer.

"Well… yi sure?" Fergus asked, already starting to grin.

"It's your choice, Mister Campbell," he said patiently. He paused, looking at his feet. Then he looked back up at him. "It always was."

Bronnin looked at Martha quickly. She met her eyes, but gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Bronnin looked back at the Gallifreyan, trying to work out what he wasn't saying. But his face gave nothing away.

And then he looked over at her, apparently cheerful, and she nodded to cover her disquiet. He looked up again.

"Well?" he asked the young man.

Fergus looked at Kickick, then slowly around the TARDIS control room.

And he knew he'd already made up his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**NINETEEN**

"So what do we do?" Bronnin asked, crouching down to help the Doctor detach the cables from the Dark Matter machine.

He spared her a glance as he pulled a catch free.

"We wait here for Martha to finish making the tea," he said cheekily.

"No, I meant… what do _we_ do?"

"Do?" he prompted.

"Well… do we go back to Romm, and then find it all changes around us?" she asked. "Or do we stand here in your amazing ship-thing and then you drop us somewhere?"

"You know what?" he said suddenly, stopping his hands to look at her. "I think you should stay here until it's all settled into the old universe again. Then I'll drop you back on Romm – the _nice_ Romm it's supposed to be, with no tectonic plate issues or environmental problems."

"Really?" she gasped. "I didn't realise Romm would change too–"

"Well it's going to. The fact that this planet suddenly appeared, changing the shape of the surrounding system, is causing the tectonic shifts on your world. I wonder about Klyst, though…" He stopped suddenly thinking. "So… why Klyst is affected when it's _outside_ the bubble is… Oh! Hold on a minute!" he said suddenly.

Bronnin stood slowly, eyeing the machine and trying to follow his words.

"Can I…?" she said quietly, and his head snapped round to look at her.

"Yes," he said warily.

"Oh. I don't mean to interrupt your thinking or anything–"

"No no," he said quickly. "What is it?"

She eyed him, surprised. "Well I was only going to say… People make money from Klyst."

"What? How?" he asked quickly.

"Well, what with the raiders and civil wars amongst the moons… There are weapons pirates, peacekeeper units, aid workers, government funding for security–"

"Everything you need to keep Klyst on the map, and generating money," he muttered to himself.

"Well then Skipper!" Fergus cried from behind them, walking back into the control room carrying a large bag. "Ah think Ah've got everything. Ah've left yi a few things, thought yi might want 'em," he added edgily.

He came round the side of the Time Rotor console and found the Doctor and Bronnin staring at each other worriedly.

"Am Ah interrupin' something?" Fergus asked cheekily.

"I think we all did," the Doctor said suddenly. He sucked in a long breath through his nose, turning abruptly from Bronnin to look at Fergus. His eyes went to the young man's large duffle bag, over his shoulder. "What's that?" he asked curiously.

Bronnin looked up past the two men to see her sister walking into the room too.

"You should see this place!" she giggled at Bronnin, but her smaller sister's face told her it was a bad time to be happy. She looked around at them all. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Ah'm no wanting a smile, nor a hug, pal. But…" Fergus hesitated, then realised everyone was watching him anyway. The Time Lord just looked at him, his face confused. "Well, Ah came hir wi' the one bag, seems only right Ah should leave wi' thi same one, don't yi think?" Fergus added quietly.

"Oh! You're going _now_?" the Doctor said suddenly, surprised. "Oh."

"What 'oh'?" he asked, looking at him again.

"Well… Bronnin's just cracked the case. We're about to–. Oh well, never mind," he said quickly, turning away from him abruptly to wink at Bronnin and lean over the console. "Leave the key. Have a nice life," he said cheerfully.

Fergus just stared at him, open-mouthed. Then he tutted and took a deep breath.

"Right. Ah _will_," he snapped angrily, turning for the door.

"Just be careful you don't get arrested for your part in helping me nick that machine," he called after him brightly.

Fergus stopped dead, halfway down the ramp.

"Shit," he heaved, dropping his bag to the grating. "Yir wanting me tae stae a while longer then?" he asked mildly.

"Only until we have this figured out," he said. "Wouldn't want to get in your way," he said pleasantly, turning and leaning over the Time Rotor console.

He yanked the monitor over to him and pushed at controls and small buttons quickly. He slapped his hands together suddenly, rubbing them briskly as he looked over at Bronnin.

"We're going to fix this? Ourselves?" she asked, shocked. "Isn't there someone we can tell –"

"Time Lord, Bronnin," he said clearly, but nevertheless with a knowing smile. "The buck stops here."

"Oh," she managed. "But how do we know where to start looking for–"

"Power!" he cried excitedly. "Power! You said Dark Matter machines are about making power."

"Yes," she said, confused.

"And where do they get this power?"

"Er… from the International Grid on Krimmanhell?" she hazarded.

"No! Wrong! Absolutely and completely _wrong_!" he shouted, standing back from the console and looking at it, vindicated.

Martha appeared, entering the room and looking round.

"The urn's full of tea, if anyone wants," she said, pleased with herself. She paused as everyone bar the Doctor stared at her. "What?"

"Then… where _does_ the power come from?" Kickick asked.

"This machine would need _huge amounts_ of energy – more energy than the entire Krimmanhellanian Dominion of Solidarity and Unity could possible release in a year and they're only releasing energy so slowly because they don't have any stockpiled!" He paused to drag in a breath. "Which means they're not the ones powering this Dark Matter machine and until we found out who or what _is_ we're not going to know what's really going on here!"

"Oh blimey, have I interrupted one of his expositions?" Martha sighed to herself, walking round to the main console.

"Someone else is powering thi machine?" Fergus asked, ignoring Martha. "Who would dae that? And why?"

"You've asked the question, Mister Campbell, and Bronnin's answered it!" he cried, racing round the opposite side of the console to pull levers and switches. He looked round the Time Rotor to look at Fergus and the three girls. "Hold on!"

"Wait! I have patients–" Martha began.

"I'll bring you back!" he pointed out. He reached out and yanked off the handbrake.

The TARDIS shivered and shook violently, and Kickick staggered down the ramp, grabbing onto Fergus's arm gratefully. Bronnin lurched to the console and clutched onto the edge, watching the Doctor as he hung on to a large lever to stop himself from being thrown to the floor.

"Are we going somewhere?" Bronnin gasped.

"To the source of the power!" the Doctor grinned. "Which, I think, will be somewhere really big, really powerful, and nowhere near the Krimmanhellanian Dominion of Solidarity and Unity!"

She found herself chuckling, and heard someone else laughing too. She looked over at Martha, who noticed and laughed louder.

"I've missed this!" she called over the slight noise.

"Here we go! Next stop – power plant!" the Doctor crowed, the blue-green light of the pistoning Time Rotor lighting up his face in a way that would have made Wes Craven proud.

"You _are_ a _maniac_!" Bronnin giggled.

"And that's why you love me!" he shot back, grinning.

-------------------------------------------------

The TARDIS slammed down and Fergus was the first one to the doors. He wanged them open and stuck his head out.

He jumped back and slammed them shut quickly.

"Er… Skipper," he said edgily. "Dae yi huv any idea wir we're supposed to be? Cos Ah don't think this is it."

"Machine's messing with the mapping system," the Doctor grumbled, slapping the side of the monitor uncharitably. "Where are we then?" he demanded, running past the girls and colliding with the door in his haste. He pulled it open and stuck his head out.

Outside was a blasted heath – burnt and blackened fields, withered and dead trees, charred soil and smoking earth.

He stepped out slowly, keeping the door mostly closed behind him as he looked around.

The single sun was hanging low in the sky, the dark clouds almost obscured by the acrid smoke fouling the air. There were no birds in the sky, no movement except the slight breeze pushing the smell of burning into his dress shirt and evening trousers.

He turned to his right, coughing slightly on the foul air, noticing a city far in the distance. There were three very tall spires and he tutted, recognising them instantly. He coughed again as he turned and walked back inside.

"Well we're not going to be able to follow the trail without a few tools," he said, wiping his dribbling eyes and sniffing. "And some breathing apparatus." He coughed again, once, and Fergus snorted at him without mirth.

"Yi always were a big Jessie," he said flatly, opening the door and stepping out.

The Doctor opened his mouth, then closed it abruptly, waiting. There was a muffled thump from behind the door, and then he walked out of it, picking Fergus up under the arms and dragging him back in over the slight step.

Bronnin and Kickick gasped in surprise at the insensate Fergus on the floor.

"You humans," the Time Lord sighed, then looked up. "And you Romm – get back from the door. That kind of toxic air will knock you straight out."

"Then how could _you_ breathe it?" Kickick asked, kneeling next to Fergus and slapping the unconscious Scot. He jumped and opened his eyes.

"Cos I'm neither human nor Romm," he said mildly, getting to his feet.

"So what's out there?" Martha asked from the centre console, folding her arms. "This monitor's not being very helpful, Doctor."

"It won't," he said, "not while the Dark Matter machine's attached to it. This is the Klyst homeworld. We're somewhen just after another civil clash, I think."

"Great," Fergus choked, and the two sisters helped him get to his feet. He coughed again, struggling to breathe properly.

"What do we do now?" Bronnin asked the Doctor squarely.

He walked up to the main console, Martha watching the monitor for clues. He stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. He reached out and shifted a few dials under his thin fingers slowly.

"Well, if we're to track this power feed, we're going to need a… Oh, where did I put that…?" He turned away and ran for the off-side door. "Don't touch anything!" he shouted as he disappeared.

Martha turned to Fergus immediately.

"Don't leave," she said clearly. Fergus stared at her.

"Dae what?" he asked, walking up the ramp. Kickick supported him, Bronnin following as she watched with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Don't leave him," Martha said quickly. "You know what he's like, Fergus, he can't even –"

"I'm sorry, Martha, but it's not really your place to tell my Fergus what to do," Kickick said quickly.

"Kee, he's not _your_ Fergus," Bronnin said tiredly.

"Oh? Like you're not following that lying alien around like some little lost puppy?" she accused her sister.

"Kee!" Fergus snapped.

"Well it's true! At least I've _admitted_ I love Fergus! But I'm not going to pretend I'll just blindly follow him wherever he goes because of it!" she cried angrily.

"No, you'd put yourself before him," Bronnin shot back. "You always have done, Kee! Perhaps I _want_ to get lost in space, perhaps I _want_ to put Romm and everything behind me and just disappear in this big ship with this big-hearted alien. Perhaps I've had enough of my sister always telling me what to do, because she can't stand the thought of me being able to do something for myself!" she shouted.

"Woah, sister-fight," Martha realised abruptly, putting her hands up in between them as they glared at each other. "Stop it! _Right – now_," she said firmly, eyeing Kickick.

There was a long silence.

"We're all the same," she continued quietly. "We all have to decide whether to stay or go one day. It's not about him. It's not about being in love with _any_one, alien or not. It's about what you think you're running away from – or missing. It's just space and which bit of it you want. That's all," she said calmly.

Fergus looked at his feet, then at Kickick. He put his hands to her arms, pulling her back from her sister slowly.

"Kee," he said quietly. "Come on, leave it. We can work this oot when we've mair time."

"You're right," she nodded uncomfortably, looking over at Bronnin. But she turned away quickly. Martha put her hand to the younger sister's arm, and she paused.

The Doctor's voice bounced down the walls brightly, heralding his return.

"… And then that's only when you _think_ you know where it is!" his annoyed voice sounded.

Fergus looked up at the other three.

"No a word," he said firmly. Martha nodded resolutely.

They heard the Doctor running back to the main room, skidding to a stop on the grating.

"Gone," he grumped, looking around and waving his hands about at the apparent lack of space around his beloved Time Rotor. "Come on, shift out of the way!" he cried, frustrated, and Martha just spared him a glance before moving everyone away from the console slowly.

He leaned under the console and opened a door, then another one, but came up empty.

"That little thief!" he snapped angrily, then stood back and put his hands on his hips, thinking. "Honestly, you let him in here cos he pretends he's being helpful and what does he do?" he demanded of himself.

"Who?" Fergus asked.


	6. Chapter 6

**TWENTY**

"Well he can just give it _back_, can't he?" the Doctor snapped curtly to himself, stepping closer to the Time Rotor again and winding a handle round quickly.

Martha turned and looked at the two girls.

"Hold on," she said wisely.

They grabbed onto the railings again as the TARDIS lurched and pitched.

The Doctor turned to Martha quickly.

"Right," he said decisively, pulling her old mobile phone from his pocket. He flipped it open. "Oh for the love of quantum field de-stabilisers!" he growled, then looked at Martha. "Have you got his number?"

"'His'?" she asked with a wide smile.

"Come on," he said irritably. She grinned, pulling her much newer phone from the pocket of her jeans and opening it, scrolling through the phone book.

"He's not going to expect_ this_," she grinned maliciously.

"No he is not," the Doctor said, then caught her eye and smiled, sharing her satisfaction.

"Who?" Fergus asked for the second time.

The Doctor peered at the display on Martha's new phone, typing into her old one in his hand.

The TARDIS whirred and clunked, and he snapped the phone shut to see her down. It slammed into solid ground and the occupants caught their footing with varying degrees of success.

"Here we are!" he cried, peering at the monitor and scowling suddenly. He hissed something unkind under his breath and then pressed buttons on the phone, putting it to his ear.

"Who yi calling noe? Yi cannae tell anyone wir here!" Fergus said, surprised.

The Doctor and Martha looked at each other, wide-eyed and surprised. Then the Doctor was distracted by the sound of the phone picking up.

"Hello?" he said quickly. Fergus heard a buzz from the other end and sniffed, waiting. "Yeah, it's me. Yeah, same face, don't worry," the Doctor said, grinning ear to ear. "Yeah yeah, no no, no problem," he said quickly. "Oh, just one thing – why on Skaro did you think you could steal my retro-active wave analyser and I wouldn't notice? And why are you tracking the power feed to the Dark Matter machine I've got sat on my grating?"

He paused, and Fergus folded his arms, confused. The two sisters looked at each other, suddenly much more accommodating.

"Yeah, that was two questions, sorry," the Time Lord continued. "Er, no, not any more. Moved the hand. Kept tripping over it," he said with a grin. Then he laughed suddenly, surprising his quartet of watchers. "Yeah, yeah, that as well. So… _Well_… Uhhhm… Ten minutes?" he offered. "Done."

He snapped the phone closed, tossing a satisfied look at Martha before turning and looking at the others.

"We're going to the Canolfan Mileniwm Cymru," he said cheerfully, slapping his teeth closed audibly. "Last one there's a rotten egg!"

-------------------------------------------------

The Doctor, Fergus, Martha, Bronnin and Kickick stepped out of the TARDIS and looked around. Martha took a big sniff of the evening air, grinning.

Then the heavens creaked opened and it started drizzling with rain.

"This is Cardiff, alright," she muttered.

"Hey there!" came a familiar voice, and the small group turned to look for the source. "I knew you'd only come back if you wanted something!"

"You mean you nicked it so I'd _have_ to come back and get it, you little tea-leaf," the Doctor said knowingly, as the owner of the voice approached quickly.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," Captain Jack Harkness grinned, and the Doctor let his pretend scowl fade.

Jack swung his hand out and clapped it into the Time Lord's, shaking vigorously, and their grins competed for Widest Of The Year Award.

"How have you been?" Jack asked warmly.

"Oh, same-same," he allowed brightly. "You?"

"Second verse, same as the first," he winked. "God, it's good to see _you_ again. Sometimes I worry one day your obituary is gonna turn up in the Intergalactic Herald," he smiled.

"I'd hope for at _least_ the Solar Times," he grinned archly.

Jack let their hands drop and turned. "Martha! My superhero!" he teased, grabbing her in a huge hug.

She hung onto him for a long minute before pulling him away to look him up and down.

"Still the same old Jack," she grinned. "Really, how have you been?"

"Oh, you know, overworked, underpaid, no time for se-. Oh, hello," he said suavely, spotting Fergus and the two girls. "Who _do_ we have here?"

"Fergus Campbell," he said warily, then stood to one side. "And this is Kickick and Bronnin."

"Romm, right?" Jack said confidently, taking Kickick's hand and kissing the back of it politely. Fergus cleared his throat and only relaxed when he let go to repeat the greeting with Bronnin.

"We are, yes," she said, surprised. "You've met Romm before?"

"Oh yeah," he winked, a huge grin plastered over his face. "I would tell you all about it, but I wouldn't want to shock you," he teased.

"Alright Jack," the Doctor said warningly, and he turned to look at him, shrugging. "Now you've met the gang, you can give my retro-active wave analyser back."

"Of course," he said cheerfully. "We could stand here in the pissing rain, or we could just head for the hub?"

"Head for the hub," the Doctor grinned. "I like that – 'head for the hub'. Come on then," he said, waving a thumb vaguely in the direction of the famous landmark behind them.

The huge lighted words towered over them and the two girls stopped to look up.

"Creu gwir fel gwydr o ffwrnais awen?" Bronnin mangled as she tried to read it slowly. "What does that mean?"

"You mean the TARDIS doesn't translate it for you?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Well give her a chance, Jack, it _is_ in Welsh," the Doctor quipped, and he shrugged it off.

"It means 'creating truth like glass, from the furnace of inspiration'," he supplied, eyeing her slowly. She looked at him coyly, hiding her flushing face. Martha looked at Jack, then Bronnin, and hid her smile.

"Can we get in then? I am kind of getting wet here," she pointed out.

"Yup, sorry," Jack said quickly. "On the step then. The grand entrance," he beamed.

-------------------------------------------------

"So what do you need this thing for anyway?" Jack asked the Doctor, bending under his desk and hauling out the boomerang-shaped piece of equipment.

"What, a retro-active wave analyser? I need to analyse some waves retro-actively," he said deliberately, and Jack made a face as he handed it to him.

Just shorter than two feet, it had a heavy, clumsy feel to it. The shiny silver finish reflected everything, the few round patches of black breaking the smooth finish.

"Anyway, couldn't get it to work," Jack said helpfully, pointing an accusing finger at the item. "I think it's busted."

"Yeah, well shows what you know," the Doctor sighed scathingly, sliding his fingers over the small black patches and pressing slightly in a fast pattern. Tiny blue and green lights came to life all down the outside edge and it hummed slightly. "Doesn't it?" he said with satisfaction, looking at him.

"Fair enough," he said, then looked at Martha. "Hasn't he had his tea today?" he asked.

"He's all excited about his new toy," she said, rolling her eyes. "Tell him," she prompted.

"Oh right, yeah," the Doctor said, pulling his eyes from the beautiful piece of advanced electronica in front of him. "We've nicked a Dark Matter machine, and we need this to trace where it's getting its power feed from."

"Woah – you mentioned a Dark Matter machine on the phone. Where is it?" he asked clearly.

"I told you, it's sat on my grating," he said, pre-occupied, as he looked at the boomerang in his hands fondly.

"How long has it been outside the bubble?"

"Thi bubble?" Fergus put in. "Hoe dae ye knoe aboot thi bubble then?"

Jack turned and looked at him, letting his eyes wander up and down him. "Hi, sorry, what was your name again?" he asked.

"Fergus," he said warily.

"Right then Fergus, in my job I see a lot of strange things – particularly in bars like _Moloko_ on Mill Lane, if you know what I mean," he grinned. Fergus just folded his arms. "So when I get readings saying that something's sucking power from the sun, and big monuments are doing strange things, I start to pay attention."

"Well?" Martha asked.

"And I piece together a pattern," he said, turning to look at them all. "What would you say if I told you that there's a huge amount of energy being sucked out of here," he said, moving his hands apart to demonstrate size, "and just for fun, it ain't going into the rift."

"I'd say you need to tell us everything you know – in a nutshell," the Doctor interrupted suddenly.

"Ok, get this," he said, oddly excited, as he looked at the Doctor earnestly. "There's this big old monument, a statue in fact, in England – right in the city of Manchester. We have records of people swearing it's getting up and walking away at night. And it only does it when the power is being drained from our sun."

Martha and Fergus exchanged a glance.

"How would anything drain power from a sun?" she dared.

"Reverse black holes," Bronnin said timidly.

"Hey," Jack grinned appreciatively, nodding at her. "Beauty _and_ brains, I can see what _you're_ doing here." He winked generously and she bit her lip, looking down quickly.

"Then we have more problems than I thought," the Doctor said to himself. "Someone has set up this Dark Matter machine to produce energy. I thought before that…"

He looked up at the ceiling, thinking, and Jack looked at Martha, grinning the grin of someone who has just received a brand new sixty inch widescreen plasma television a few hours ahead of the rugby World Cup. Martha smiled and shook her head, looking back at the Doctor.

"It's not a mistake. This machine was turned on to _make_ that bubble." The Time Lord looked at Bronnin suddenly, snapping his fingers at her. "You said it yourself – they're making money hand over fist from the Klyst civil war."

"Woah – guys? There _is_ no civil war in the Klyst system," Jack protested.

"There is now that machine's on," the Doctor interrupted. "Honestly Jack, keep up." He huffed. "Right, so they've turned on this machine to create a new planet and make up some war for money. Stupid and evil, but there it is," he snapped to himself. "And it's being powered from somewhere on Klyst itself – except you say they're also drawing off this sun, too."

He paused, eyeing the boomerang-shaped retro-active wave analyser slowly.

"Why a statue? Why Manchester? Why this system?" He looked up at Jack suddenly. "Which statue is it?" he asked curiously. "Queen Victoria? Robert Peel? Oliver Heywood?"

"Ooh no, it's better than that," Jack grinned, unable to keep his excitement in check. "It's Sir Matt Busby."


	7. Chapter 7

**TWENTY-ONE**

"Well now we've got this, we'll be off," the Doctor said, spreading his fingers over the small black patches on the analyser again, watching the lights go out. "We're off to Manchester."

"Woah woah woah," Jack said quickly, putting his hands up, and the Time Lord looked at him, surprised. "Don't think you're going anywhere without me at your rear."

"Jack, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were bored," the Doctor said, grinning. Jack shrugged.

"Hey, we're busy enough, but come on – you, me and Martha all together again? Even for just one gig? Can't say no to that," he smiled.

The Doctor caught his gaze wandering past him to the sisters, and rolled his eyes.

"I'll bet," he allowed. "Well… you're not _completely_ useless, I suppose," he breathed to himself.

"Oh come on now – you need someone who can kick the shit out of anyone who gets in the way. I'm not too bad at that, if you remember," he said defensively.

"Well that's Mister Campbell's department," the Doctor said, surprising Jack by turning and landing a heavy hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Just don't annoy him."

"Charming," Jack smiled, then winked at Fergus. He just looked back at him. "So let's go then – Manchester, Old Trafford Football Ground, East Stand," he said.

"Right then," the Doctor said, looking at Martha with some expression she couldn't quite identify. He waved his hand out and Jack grinned, turning and grabbing his long coat from the back of his chair before leading the two girls and Fergus toward the large circular door.

The Doctor took Martha's arm as she walked past him to file out with the others. She stopped and looked up at him.

"What?" she asked quietly. He leaned down slightly, looking over her head still as he spoke.

"Do us a favour, make sure those two stay apart," he said quietly. She looked around, watching the two sisters and Fergus leave the door, Jack looking back at the two left behind.

"Jack and Fergus?" she asked quickly. "Why?"

"Trust me," he said, looking down at her now. She nodded dumbly, and he let go of her arm. She turned and walked out quickly, smiling as she passed Jack. The Doctor put his hands in his pockets, following.

"Problem?" Jack asked him.

"I'll say – you could have painted this place," the Doctor said, wrinkling his nose as he ducked through the door.

Jack grinned and followed them all out.

-------------------------------------------------

The TARDIS materialised right outside a large glass fronted building, just off to one side of the locked doors.

The growing number of travellers slowly emerged from the transcendental craft, looking around warily.

"It's dark," Bronnin pointed out.

"Yeah – sorry. Small time slip. Having that thing connected to the Time Rotor causes problems," the Doctor said.

"So disconnect it," Jack put in. Fergus stepped out with Kickick and Martha, eyeing Jack as he walked past them all, up to the glass front. Jack stopped and looked up, hands on his hips, smiling. "So this Sir Matt Busby, huh?" he asked grandly.

"Apparently," the Doctor allowed. He looked around, noticing the street noise and sounds of the city not too far away. He lifted the boomerang-shaped retro-active wave analyser and ran his fingers over it, turning it on. "Jack," he said curiously, watching the lights come on.

"What?" he asked, turning to look at him.

"You know you said the statue comes to life when there's a power drain on the sun?"

"Yeah," he said warily.

"How were you measuring this power drain, exactly?"

"I was kinda hoping you wouldn't ask me that," he said awkwardly, and now the Doctor looked up at him. He simply raised his eyebrows, and Jack squirmed, his hands fiddling with each other absently. "We ah… We've got a kinda power meter," he admitted, putting his hand in his big pocket and pulling out what looked like a PDA.

"And?" the Doctor said warily.

"Well I can get the readings through this. It's connected to the… Well, we're using a ah… It's a Folian EM radiation meter," he admitted.

Martha and Fergus watched the Doctor's face turn from one of trepidation to accusation.

"Wait!" Jack said quickly, holding up his hands. "We disconnected the refraction –"

"Do you wake up in the morning _try_ing to think of ways to destroy the hope I had in you?" the Doctor snapped, and Martha put a hand over her mouth quickly.

Jack just stood there, stunned.

"As soon as this is sorted, you're turning it off and destroying it," the Time Lord snapped, his large eyes pinning the once Time Agent with the full force of his righteous indignation.

"Ok," Jack said lamely.

It was silent for a long moment as the two men stared at each other. Jack cleared his throat eventually and looked away as fast as he could.

The Doctor looked down at the analyser in his hand, then up at the statue of Sir Matt Busby, over the door in front of them. He tutted to himself, apparently disgusted, and turned away abruptly.

Fergus gave Martha a look before walking after him, hearing him mutter to himself.

She looked back at the two sisters and Jack.

"Well," she said, trying to break the silence. "Er, how about we go back inside and wait for them to bring us news?" she said patiently. "It's not like we can do much out here. And anyway, we can be watching for power and moving statues from the TARDIS monitor."

"Good idea," Kickick said quickly, and Jack looked at them.

"You guys go ahead," he said quietly. "I'll see what I can do to help."

"Good luck," Martha said meaningfully, before turning back to the two girls, guiding them toward the familiar blue doors.

-------------------------------------------------

Martha and the two girls sat on the high chairs, sipping their hot tea, watching the Time Rotor monitor.

"So Fergus has decided to leave after all, to go with you?" Martha asked gingerly. "You must be pleased."

"I am," Kickick grinned. "He's absolutely adorable, isn't he?"

"He is," she confirmed. "You're just lucky he's willing to give all this up," she sighed. "A lot of men wouldn't."

"Did you?" Bronnin asked curiously.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did," she said. "For my family though, nothing as noble as falling in love with an alien," she rattled off.

Bronnin cast her a sly look, and she looked down at her tea quickly.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Kickick asked suddenly. "I mean, the three of them out there in the dark?"

"Of course," Martha said, relieved at a change of subject. "Fergus is very handy in tight spots – and Jack isn't all mouth and no trousers, despite how he seems at times," she grinned.

"Good," Kickick said quietly. She looked up, about to say something, but Bronnin started and jumped off the chair suddenly. "What?"

"The statue," she said, pointing at the monitor, ostensibly watching just that.

But as Martha and Kickick turned to look at the CCTV footage, they gasped.

The statue was gone.

-------------------------------------------------

"So this thing is tracing where thi power's coming in fae?" Fergus asked, deliberately loudly.

"Yes," the Doctor replied, ignoring the sound of Jack walking slightly behind them.

"Do we not need tae know where it's going, too?" he offered.

"We know where it's going," the Doctor replied evenly. "It's going to the machine on my grating."

Jack twitched slightly, plunging his hand in his pocket quickly and pulling out the PDA.

"Ah… guys?" he said quickly.

The Doctor looked at him as he heard the phone singing in his pocket. He tutted and stopped, taking the phone from his dimensionally-challenged dress trousers.

"Hello?" he asked, irritated.

"Ah… really, guys?" Jack said more loudly, eyeing the screen on the PDA and then looking around quickly, Fergus watching him.

"When?" the Doctor demanded down the phone, grabbing their attention. "Ok, forget it now. Just watch to see if it comes back," he said. "Did you see it leave?"

Fergus looked at Jack, then his eyes widened and he stared past his shoulder. The hair on the back of Jack's neck stood up swiftly as he felt the urge to turn and look.

He did. He reached out and his hand brushed the Time Lord's shoulder, then found it again by touch and patted at it forcefully.

"What?" the Doctor demanded testily, then turned to look. He sniffed to himself. "Martha?" he said pleasantly down the phone. "Have to call you back. Found the missing statue."

He snapped the phone shut and pocketed it, looking down at the analyser in his right hand. He looked up again.

"It's… not that," he said, as the three men watched it walk straight past them, oblivious. "But something is sucking in background radiation and pressing it into energy. Something… not on the surface…"

"Is that really a statue?" Jack asked, dumb-founded. "How is it moving like a real person?"

"Let's ask it," the Gallifreyan said curiously. He held the analyser behind his back swiftly, walking up and keeping step with Sir Matt Busby. "Evening," he said pleasantly. "Nice night for a walk, isn't it?"

The statue flinched, but kept walking. Fergus hurried to flank it on the other side, and Jack brought up the rear, watching where they were headed and who might be watching the odd group.

"Been busy, Sir Matt?" the Doctor asked airily. The statue ignored him. He leaned behind it to hand Fergus the analyser. He fell back into step with the statue before taking his screwdriver from his pocket. "I mean, you've been retired for a while now. Can't think there'd be much to do at your time of life. You know, bronzed," he said cheerfully.

He flicked on the screwdriver.

The statue turned swiftly and grabbed for the sonic instrument. The Doctor yelped and jumped back.

Fergus and Jack had time to register the image of the statue flicker and weave. Then it flickered back to look like a statue again.

The statue hurled itself on the Doctor.

Jack and Fergus didn't even hesitate. They leapt at the metal creature almost as one. The four of them went down in a heap. They scrabbled and fought, until suddenly it all went silent and still.

"Gotcha," Jack wheezed, his hands and ankles still squeezing its left wrist into the grass beneath. The statue was still struggling and wrenching, but it was definitely trapped.

"Gah! Stae still yi slippery bastard, ye!" Fergus growled. He was sprawled over the statue, clutching the right hand in his, the statue's throat in the other. "Yir no going anywhir!"

"When you've finished congratulating each other do you think you could _get off me_!" the Doctor cried, frustrated.

Jack and Fergus looked at each other, then down at the statue.

Jack slewed his body round and to the side, finding the Doctor underneath. He was pinned under the heavy metal, his head and shoulders sticking out from the small of the statue's back.

He couldn't help it; the Captain started to laugh.

Fergus tutted and grumbled, shifting round while keeping a good hold on the thing.

"Alright pal, c'moan and get him oot," he said irritably. Jack uncrossed his ankles from round the thing's wrist, turning round quickly.

"Right – one two three and go," he said. "Roll him over, pin him down. Got it?"

"Right. Go," Fergus nodded.

The two men twisted and heaved, rolling the struggling statue onto its front and off the Time Lord. They shifted their weight onto it quickly as the Doctor rolled, groaning, onto his front to be further away from the heap of men.

"So now what?" Jack asked. "Can't exactly pump him for information, can we?"

"Well he doesnae like thi screwdriver – Ah vote we find oot why," Fergus replied.

"Oooh, a thinker _and_ a fighter," Jack winked at him. Fergus rolled his eyes, then looked over at the Doctor.

"Hae – wuid yi tell this buftie Ah'm no interested," he called, amused.

The Doctor rolled onto his back, winded, his fingers reaching for the deactivated screwdriver. He got to his knees slowly, then stood. He bent over, snatching up his screwdriver and catching his breath.

"Right then," he breathed, walking over, "let's see who you really are, shall we?"

He flicked on the screwdriver. The statue struggled and began to wrench, but the two men held it fast.

It began to flicker, as if it were simply a picture underneath them. Jack found his hands empty and shifted, trying to grab onto whatever was appearing underneath.

He found his hands tight round spindly, short limbs. Fergus was clamping his hands round the semblance of a throat.

"Well, well, well," the Doctor said, grandly, looking down at the struggling female Krimmanhellanian. "Madame Premier."


	8. Chapter 8

**TWENTY-TWO**

"Let me go," she spat, pulling on her short arms.

"Hey lady, the best thing you can do right now is hold still," Jack snapped, unamused. Fergus stared at her.

"Hoe did she dae that?" he asked.

"I'd say… a wide-range teleport, incapable of full delivery without the necessary energy or pull. I just whacked up the gain, that's all," the Doctor said thoughtfully. "Cheap, portable kind of unit – like the kind made on Klyst," he added pointedly.

"But why?" Jack asked, tugging on her arm forcefully to keep her under control.

The Time Lord looked up at the night sky, then across the star field from left to right unhurriedly.

"Ooohh, I think there's a lot more here than meets even my eyes," he allowed on a sigh. He walked closer to the odd arrangement of captive and captors, putting his free hand in his pocket and looking down at her. "What was the demonstration with the dummy machine all about?"

"Why should I tell you?" she snapped coldly.

"Uhhm… because I think you're meddling with powers you cannot possibly comprehend." He paused. "Oh blimey, now I sound like Obi Wan," he said wearily, looking up at the sky.

"It was a simple dummy – it was going to draw power from the working one to impress with its power output," she said suddenly, and he looked at her again.

"Oh," he said, surprised. "Didn't think you were going to tell me, actually."

"You wouldn't understand it anyway," she said loftily.

"Right," he breathed, unimpressed. "So… _Why_?" he asked directly. "Why are you sucking power from this sun? There are hundreds of others that kick out more power, and all from closer to Klyst. Why are you maintaining the parallel bubble and Glasgow? Why are you doing this to your own system? Can't you see what you're doing?"

"Oh I can see exactly what we're doing," she hissed at him. "We're building new worlds, we're creating revenue, we're keeping people in jobs, giving them new places to live. We're housing the homeless populace, making worlds turn, economies run, lives continue." She paused, a smug smile on her face. "We're homing millions! And they'll all travel to Glasgow shortly, ready to start a new life there!"

"And you're funding this from some made-up civil war that is tearing the Klyst system apart?" he demanded harshly.

"Yes! How else could we get backing and money to do this? It's perfect! A couple of moons devastated, a few hundred thousand people killed, and then we get what we want and start building anew! You should be thanking us!"

"You're killing all those people, wiping out entire colonies, to fund new worlds?" the Doctor said quietly. There was no anger, no noise. But Fergus's skin began to prickle slowly.

"It's all worth it – it's all for the greater good!" she cried smugly. "And you're going to stop all that? You're going to burst the bubble, shut down the huge operation, unravel everything we've done and destroy all the good things we've achieved?"

The Doctor stared at her, his eyes round with condemnation. "Ooohhh," he breathed darkly, and she felt the velvet implication of menace chill her right through. "Ooohhh yes."

The Premier shook off the feeling of dread and managed a cavalier laugh.

"Then you'll have to get started. It's going to be harder than you think," she sneered.

"What happens when the bubble is stretched too far by the one machine, and the whole thing collapses in on itself?" he asked mildly. "What happens to all your hard work then?"

"You think I _care_?" she laughed. "The planets we made will fade. But the money from the venture won't."

"Millions of beings – perhaps _billions_ – will die," he said quietly. His eyes bored into hers, and she felt her smugness drain away. It was silent for a long moment.

"What will you do with me now?" she asked, feeling a shiver run over her from the blaze in his shining eyes.

He looked away from her suddenly, bringing the sonic screwdriver up to his face and looking at it speculatively. He sniffed, thinking, then flicked his gaze back down to the petite female.

"How did you get here?" he asked curiously.

"Don't see why I should tell –"

"Only – don't get me wrong – but if it's the knackered teleporter I_think_ you've used, you're going to have to ask for help to get back," he said pleasantly.

"What?" she demanded. She wrenched suddenly but Fergus had a good hold.

The Doctor crouched nearer to her, running the screwdriver down her slowly. She struggled and spat curses at him.

"Now now," he said warningly, "there's no need for that." He brought the screwdriver back and looked at it. "Oh, now that's interesting. So much for Krimmanhell for the Krimmanhellanians, eh?"

"You wouldn't understand, you worthless human!" she hissed at him.

He looked back at her, and something in his dark eyes made her stop struggling suddenly.

"Human?" he asked quietly, tilting his head and looking at her. "Now why would you assume I'm human?"

He crouched down next to her slowly. He put his hand down and his fingers touched at the side of her face.

"Get off me!" she shouted.

Jack and Fergus pulled harder on her arms, stopping her from struggling. The Doctor simply stared at her, his eyes appearing to be looking at something very much further away.

"What are you doing! What are you doing in my head!" she gasped fearfully.

"Oh dear," he said quietly, his eyes refocusing as he pulled his hand away. "You've traded time for this body? _That's_ why you didn't have water on your podium at the speech. Cybernetic bodies don't need to drink water, do they?"

"What are you?" she asked, horrified. He stood slowly.

"I'm the one who's going to put everything back as it was," he said simply, pocketing the screwdriver and turning away.

"Skipper?" Fergus asked, then looked over at Jack. "What do we de wi' the bird noe?"

"We won't have to do anything," the Doctor said. "She'll run straight home. But she's not exactly going to get an agreeable performance report from her bosses on Klyst."

"How do you know that?" Jack asked.

"Because we've got their Dark Matter machine, and we can turn it off any time we like," the Doctor said sadly.

She gasped and struggled.

"So we just let her go?" Jack asked, non-plussed.

"We do," the Doctor said sadly. "She'll be able to use that teleport after all. Lucky thing she's mostly cybernetic, save her brain," he added to himself. "But believe me, we're not doing her any favours."

"Suits me," Fergus said, letting go of her and getting to his feet. He looked around the grass as Jack let go of her too, climbing to his feet slowly, eyeing the small female.

The Doctor let both his hands go into his pockets slowly.

"Go on then, run along," he said reasonably.

But the female just stood, looking around slowly.

Jack smiled, folding his arms and watching her. Fergus turned, walking a few feet away and picking up the fallen analyser. He turned and watched the small alien female look round at them all slowly.

"Er… could we talk about this?" she asked gingerly.

"What's to talk about? Go on, off you go," the Doctor said pleasantly, putting a hand up to pull on an ear innocently. "I expect you have a lot of explaining to do. Best get started early."

"Wouldn't want to be late – that's not going to help your case either," Jack said helpfully. "Well then, good luck, lady," he said kindly, walking over and putting his hand out.

She took it, shaking it slowly, as if not quite believing it were happening. Fergus watched him step back again and then turn away, as if no longer interested. She turned and looked up at the Doctor.

"Have a nice evening, Madam Premier," he said pleasantly, and his hands went back in his pockets. He turned and simply followed Jack back the way they had all come.

Fergus shook his head, lost, and walked past her to catch them up.

She looked around, then at the trio of disappearing aliens.

"Wait!" she called suddenly. "Can I… I need your help!" she called.

"Too late for that," the Doctor said cheerfully, without even turning round. He waved a hand over his shoulder as he walked. " 'Night."

They walked on, no-one saying a word until they were back near the TARDIS.

"So… yi just gonnae leave here tae her bosses?" Fergus dared quietly.

The Doctor stopped and looked at him. Fergus took a slow step back from him, looking at the analyser in his hands quickly to avoid the look from the Time Lord. He turned and gave it to Jack, going to the TARDIS and walking inside swiftly.

Jack watched the door close, then looked at the Doctor slowly.

"Why?" he asked quietly.

The Gallifreyan looked at him, and Jack lifted his chin, swallowing and doing his best not to acknowledge the creeping fear travelling up his spine.

"She made me angry," he said gently, and Jack nodded, looking down at his feet swiftly.

"Yeah, I kinda… I kinda figured you were at that 'beyond fury' level," he said to his boots. He looked up again bravely. "I can't help thinking that I've made things worse."

"Worse?" he asked, and Jack noticed the accusation in his gaze melt into curiosity. "Why, what did you do this time?"

"I had the EM radiation meter going to track this thing. I might have been helping them use the carrier waves to –"

"Jack, at the risk of wasting my time, I'm going to say _don't flatter yourself_," he said, a small smile curling at one side of his mouth, and Jack began to relax at last.

He looked down at the analyser in his hands, handing it out to the Doctor. He looked at it, then back at Jack.

"Nah, you look after it for now," he said dismissively. He turned to go but Jack grabbed his elbow, pulling on it.

"Look, Doctor," he said quickly. "About the EM radiation meter. It's harmless now. I would _not_ have it on if I thought it would damage anything."

"Really?" the Doctor challenged, his eyes hard once again. "Are you sure? What about all the good things it could do, all the information and data it could gather, in just a few minutes. Stuff that it'd take a lifetime to get through Earth means?"

"We went through all that," he said honestly. "And we decided… We decided to just use it for power readings. It doesn't even have a clock any more," he said quietly. "We stripped it right down. It's just a big ammeter now."

The Time Lord huffed, pulling his elbow free and looking away.

"You should have destroyed it when you found it," he observed, turning and walking toward the TARDIS doors.

Jack looked down at the analyser, sighed, and followed.

"Hey," he said quickly, as the Time Lord was half in the door. "Where are we going now?"

"Jack, have you missed out on your coffee today?" he tutted. "Now we know where the power is coming from, and I have my analyser back, we're going to find the source and shut it down."

Jack pushed in through the TARDIS door, finding everyone looking at him.

"So we just go over there, to Klyst, land, find the power source, destroy it, then go home for tea and biscuits?" he asked, closing the door.

"Pretty much," the Doctor was saying, walking up to the centre console. Jack just leaned back on the tall blue doors, looking around.

"With all this lot?" he asked honestly. "I'd say this is one team that's getting a little large."

"Well don't look at me," Kickick said suddenly. "If Fergus is staying, _I'm_ staying," she added, ignoring Bronnin's look of surprise.

"If you and the Doctor are going, I'm going," she said quickly.

"If you two girls are going, I'm going to have to stick around too," Martha offered, less cheerfully.

"Wull… Ah cannae leave right noe anywae, Ah'll get arrested," Fergus admitted.

Jack tutted. "Looks like a full house then, doesn't it?" he said, walking up the ramp slowly.

The Doctor put his hands to the console and massaged it into life, yanking on the heavy handbrake. The grating juddered and shook, and everyone clung to the railings around them.

"So we're off to Klyst?" Jack called over the slight noise.

"Oh yes!" the Doctor grinned.

"Where?" Jack challenged. The Doctor avoided his gaze.

"I can work out the details when we get there!" he said, his voice high-pitched in its defensiveness. Jack grinned suddenly.

"Then it's a good job she has a homing device stuck to her palm, now isn't it?" he said smugly.

"Jack – you star," he laughed.

"Yeah. Now all I have to do is stop any of these beautiful people from getting hurt," he said, less amused.

"Oh come on, it won't be that bad," the Doctor grinned suddenly, and the other five turned to look at him. "At least now we have enough players for Twister."

The TARDIS shot through the vortex.


	9. Chapter 9

**TWENTY-THREE**

The TARDIS smacked down and the assorted group gathered at the ramp.

"Look, Doctor – at the risk of being sexist, I really think the ladies should stay here," Jack said loudly, and got a slap in the arm from Martha for his trouble.

"Well wir gonnae be limited alright," Fergus said from the far doorway, and the Doctor looked over.

"How many did you find?" he called over.

"Just thi four of 'em," he said, lifting his arms to wave the four sets of breathing masks, connected to wraparound goggles. "Thi good news is, three of 'em huv fully working converters. They won't even need tae use thi air tank, they can just scrub thi air itself," he said. "Thi bad news is, thi last one's a wee bit damaged – the scrubber's nae sae good, it'll huv tae use thi air tank a lot more. And it's only good fae a few hoors."

"That's fine," the Doctor said curtly, nodding. "Well I need me – everyone else is optional."

"Hey now, wait a minute," Jack said, lifting his hands in protest. "If there's anyone here who knows how to lead a group, it's me."

"Remind me why you're here again?" Kickick asked him suddenly. He turned and looked at her.

"Because, lady, I can read half the machines and read-outs on this ship, and I can track the power source without the good Doctor's help. Why are _you _here again?" he said pleasantly.

"She's wi' me," Fergus said warningly.

"Well I'm not staying here while you lot go off and get into trouble," Bronnin said sharply. "That bubble's spreading out toward my home, not yours, and I'm not having that."

"Ok," the Doctor said quickly, snapping his fingers at Fergus. "A working one for Bronnin."

"What about me?" Jack asked.

"You're staying here and looking after the rest," he said pleasantly. "Knackered one for me, please," he called over to Fergus. He walked down the ramp and handed a working mask to Bronnin warily.

"What?" Jack prompted, putting a finger behind his ear to demonstrate bad hearing.

"Bronnin, Fergus and me. That's it," he said shortly.

"Fergus?" Jack protested. "Couldn't _he_ stay and look after the rest?"

"You see? _This_ is why it's bad to have more than one friend in the TARDIS at once," the Doctor sighed to himself. "Right! Change of plans!" he called abruptly, and everyone turned and looked at him. "Me and Martha – everyone else stays put!"

There was a barrage of noise and protests. The Doctor put his fingers in his mouth and blew out the loudest whistle ever to have been made by flesh.

There was silence.

"For exactly this reason. Martha?" he said, turning and hurrying down the ramp, taking Bronnin's mask from her. "Catch." He tossed the mask at her and she stepped forward, grabbing it from the air. He looked at Fergus. "Swap," he called, tossing the damaged mask at him. He caught it and threw him a working one. "Jack?" the Doctor said, turning to look at him. "You are in charge of the TARDIS and these three."

"I'm in charge? Cool!" he grinned childishly.

"Trust me when I say that if you damage this ship, if you so much as leave fingerprints on the keyboard, you will never again have reason or equipment to secure a shag–"

"Doctor!" he protested, shocked.

"–pile carpet rendezvous," he finished flatly.

"Oh," Jack managed. He heard a giggle and spotted Martha covering her mouth. "Fair enough. But can I look at–"

"No," the Time Lord said quickly.

"What about checking–"

"No."

"Or watching for–"

"No! Just don't touch anything! Fergus – stop him from peeking and downloading stuff, will you?"

"Aye-aye Skipper," he said smartly, pinning Jack with a look that would have frozen over a great many circles of Hell.

"This sucks," Jack muttered to himself.

"Yeah well, try being nearly a thousand years old and still babysitting," the Doctor said tartly. Then he looked down at Bronnin more seriously, putting a hand to her arm. "We'll find the power unit. We'll destroy it, don't worry. Romm will be fine."

"I hope so," she said. "Be careful." She stood up on tip-toe and kissed his cheek suddenly. "Don't get hurt."

"I'll do my best," he said easily, walking past her and to the doors. Martha was already there, pulling the mask over her face and adjusting it professionally. He looked at her. "Put the goggles on," he knowingly, opening the door for her. He looked over at the others. "Right you lot," he said, as Martha ducked under his arm and out of the TARDIS, "_behave_!"

And he stepped out of the doors and onto the ravaged soil of Klyst.

-------------------------------------------------

"You have not completed your task," the little old man said, fixing the Premier of Krimmanhell with an accusing gaze. She shifted uncomfortably.

"I supplied a complete report – and I did advise that this council remove to a safe place, sir," she said quickly.

"Yes, let's think about that, shall we?" he said sarcastically. "_You_ presumed to advise _us_ to remove to a safe place. A safe place." He paused, thinking. "Because one man knows about us?"

"He has the Dark Matter machine, sir," she pointed out.

The little old man yawned and looked around the office, shaking his head tiredly. The wooden walls and generous carpet gave it a comforting, old world feel that was designed to put people at ease. However, his languid disapproval and air of total disappointment more than cancelled all of it out.

"He does. That is a problem. However, retrieving it will not be."

"Good, sir, good," she said nervously.

"We have detected what was once a Folian EM radiation meter tracking the power feeds from it. We in turn have been tracking this power meter – and although our machine appears to be moving around unaided, we know exactly where it is." He smoothed a parched, wrinkled hand over his chin slowly in thought. "You may go back to Krimmanhell," he said dismissively, looking back at the read-outs on his computer terminal, sunk into the desk. "There's nothing you can do here."

"But sir! If that man is coming here–"

"That man, if he is in possession of the machine, is _already_ here," he said slowly. "Do you honestly think I would be in any danger, should he brave the toxic atmosphere and battlegrounds and find his way here? Stupid little Krimmanhellanian girl," he snorted, shaking his head. "I've been doing this for hundreds of years. I've seen men like him come and go. Let him try."

He reached forward and pressed a button, and the large wooden doors behind her swung open. She nodded respectfully and turned for the doors, walking out slowly. She heard a slight noise and paused.

The intense pain and heat registered in her back for a second. Then she was grated metal on the carpet.

"Inda!" the little old man called politely. "Inda dear?"

A little old lady's head appeared round the doors, smiling knowingly.

"Ah, Inda my sweet, would you clear that up? I'd hate to be inhaling metal filings for the next week."

-------------------------------------------------

The Doctor and Martha walked across the scared, smoking piece of land, aiming for the city just across the field. She looked up and saw the tall, pointed spires of the buildings, the graceful architecture, the beautiful details around the windows and every aperture.

"This place is amazing," she smiled, the mask muffling her voice somewhat. The Doctor looked down at her from her side.

"What, this place?" he teased. "Not a patch on _my_ place. Spires are too short, for one thing."

"So why am I here?" she asked.

He looked at her, then carried on walking, the mask strapped to his face making him seem more distant suddenly. She wondered idly if her goggles made her own eyes shine as much as his did. Something made her doubt it.

He put a hand out without looking, taking hers firmly as they walked.

"Because, delightful as everyone else is, it's just nice to have you around," he admitted, not looking at her.

"You miss me?" she asked, surprised.

"I miss your _nags_," he smiled into his mask, and she felt herself grin, even as she pushed on his hand in rebuke.

"And Bronnin?" she asked slyly. He looked at her now. "I've seen the way she looks at you. I used to do that, if you remember."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Liar," she said sharply. "She's only hanging around here cos she has a thing for you. And you don't care, do you?"

"I care very much, Martha. That's what you never asked me," he observed.

"What?" she dared, stopping him in his tracks.

"I always cared. Trouble is, just not in the way you wanted. Sorry. I'm just not built that way," he said easily, shrugging.

"Yeah, I… I realise that," she said, then took a deep breath of scrubbed air. It smelt of plastic. "Anyway, break it to Bronnin too, will you?"

"I don't think I'll have to," he said confidently. "She's not stupid. Bit like you, in that respect," he said cheerfully, pulling on her hand to start walking again. "Come to think of it, I think that's why I like having her around. She's like… She's like you from another planet."

"Cheeky," she teased.

They had reached the other end of the field and stepped out onto what used to be a road, or at least a pavement. Now it was pocked with holes and corruptions in the flat surface, scorch marks and rubble, litter and chaos.

"Wow," Martha muttered. "What did all this?"

"Someone engineering a fight between two continents," he mused, apparently to himself. "Look over there," he added, pointing.

On the side of a building about thirty feet away was a large scrawl in graffiti paint: '_Klyst does not need help. Go home peacekeepers._'

"Charming," she tutted.

"Territorial," he sighed, then turned to look left and right. He pulled the analyser out of his pocket and let go of Martha's hand to put his fingers over the black patches.

Lights blinked on and a slight hum radiated from it. He smiled and looked up and around, his eyes searching the buildings for something.

"I think…" he said, turning to his left, "we should go this–"

"Doctor!" she said quickly, grabbing his arm and pulling. He was yanked to his left and he dropped the analyser.

He bent quickly, snatching it up without a word, trusting her pull. He didn't even turn around as she led them closer to the buildings as fast as she dared.

They stopped with their backs to the building, Martha putting a fast hand out and pushing him back against it. He just waited as she looked round the corner slowly.

She pulled her head back and let her hand drop from his chest.

"Some kind of patrol," she said. He nodded and whisked a thumb up and round. She shifted and moved past him, and he sidled up to the corner.

He put his head round stealthily to see an armoured vehicle trundling sedately up the remains of the road. There was a sentry bubble sticking up from the darkened driver's canopy and he watched it turn from side to side slowly.

He pulled back and looked at her.

"If you were hiding all the power, which side would you be on?" he asked quietly.

"Oh no you–" She made a grab for his tux shirt but he was already round the corner of the building.

"Hello!" he called, waving his hands at the small tank.

The vehicle stopped. The large twelve-pound gun swung round rather disturbingly like the weapon on a dalek. There was a slight snap and crackle as a microphone was switched on.

"Identify your side," came the order.

"I'm not on anyone's side," he called back helpfully. "Well, that's not strictly true – I'm on _my_ side, of course–"

"Identify your side," it repeated.

"Shan't," he called back petulantly.

The gun hummed and there was the sound of power build-up.

"Alright! I've got your mach–"

The gun fired.


	10. Chapter 10

**TWENTY-FOUR**

The Doctor dived for the ground. He rolled as fast as he could. The blast hit the road where he had been stood, digging a six-foot gouge in the surface.

"_Bli_mey that was rude!" he managed, shocked, as he rolled to his feet.

"Don't shoot!" Martha shouted, running round from the corner. "We surrender!"

"We do?"

"We do!" she shouted at them, her hands in the air.

"Why?" he asked, stumped.

"Because they'll have to arrest us, and then we can find out which side _these_ people are on, and then get closer to the power router!" she hissed from the side of her mouth. "What happened to you, hit your head, or something?"

"Well – I don't think these are the –"

"Stay where you are!" the voice from the vehicle intoned. "Do not move!"

"See? They're not shooting at us any more," she pointed out.

"That's cos – cos there's no-one in," he realised, walking toward the vehicle suddenly. The gun swivelled but he ducked and ran in under the barrel nimbly. "Now, if there were _people_ in this thing," he said, pulling out his screwdriver and adjusting the top quickly, "they'd be opening the hatch right now," he added, turning and pointing the device at the side panel. He flicked it on and it bathed the entire panel in soft blue light for a long moment. "And pointing hand held weapons at us. But they're not," he said, snapping the screwdriver off and pocketing it.

"It's empty?" she asked, letting her hands drop.

He put his fingers to the panel and simply popped it off, grabbing small fibres inside and fiddling. The gun lowered abruptly like a puppet with its strings cut, and he bit his lip, fiddling still. There was a metallic clang and Martha looked at the hatch.

"Oh," she said, watching it raise and stand open. He let go of the fibres and stood back, looking up.

"Martha Jones," he said grandly, slapping his palms together and rubbing them briskly, "I think we've just stolen a police car. Shall we take her for a spin?"

-------------------------------------------------

"Now look – there are two more masks here. You and me can get across to the city and make sure they're alright," Jack said urgently.

Fergus folded his arms resolutely, leaning back in the galley chair and huffing.

"Thi Skipper said tae wait right hir," he said flatly. "So that's what wir gonnae dae. Don't yi even think o' moving oot that door."

Jack sat back in his chair, studying him.

"What are you here for, Fergus?" he asked mildly. "I mean, I got Rose. I get Martha. I just don't get you."

"And believe me, pal, that's fine wi' me," he said firmly. "Yir only passing through. Yir just hir till we finish what we need tae do. Then yi'll piss off, like everyone else, and Ah'll huv tae pick up thi pieces fae him. So don't sit thir and pretend yi've something over me, just cos yi've known him longer. Ah've spent thi last _year_ watching oot fae him, and Ah don't need _you_ tae come in hir and – and–"

"Fuck it all up?" Jack hazarded.

"Aye. So calm it, pal," he said darkly.

Jack grinned.

"So… a year, huh?" he asked easily, leaning back and folding his arms slowly. "Told you much about himself, has he?"

"Enough," he allowed, clearly unhappy.

"You know, when I first met him, he wasn't him."

"Don't tell me, yi met him during his last regeneration?" Fergus said pointedly.

"Yeah, I did," Jack said, his smile dropping.

"When he was an emotional space-case?" he pressed home. "Well he's nae sae good noe, either. He's more tigether, Ah'll grant yi, but there's a lot o' shite he'll never get over. Seeing you again hasnae helped," he said tightly.

"Oh?"

"Aye. Ah'm an observer, Jack. Ah cannae help it. Comes from working on tiny wee circuits that only huv slight changes fae stage tae stage," he added. "He's happy tae see yi, but there's something he remembers aboot yi that he doesnae like."

"Ah," he said slowly. "That wouldn't be me. That would be… things we did last time."

"Things?" Fergus prompted. And now Jack looked at him.

"You don't know?" he teased. "I thought you knew everything about him?"

"Ah thought yi wir trouble when yi stepped on this ship," Fergus shot back.

"And just what it is about me that you don't like?" he asked, puzzled.

"Are yi wanting thi short list?"

"Cos I know him?"

"It's no that."

"Before you did?"

"No."

"Cos I kissed your girlfriend's hand? Is that it?" he grinned.

"Och awae wi' yi – Ah'm no playing this –"

"Come on, big man, what is it?" he said quickly. "You don't want me here. Why?"

"Cos this is _ma_ job, no yurrs!" he shouted suddenly. Jack blinked in surprise. "It's taken me a _year_ to get where Ah am! We live on this ship tigether and everything's fine! We don't need anyone else coming in and messing all that up! Thi sooner yi leave, thi better!"

"Well what if I don't want to leave?" he said slyly.

"Then yi'll leave with ma boot up yurr arse!" he shouted.

"Maybe I'll just ask your girlfriend there what she'd think about–"

"Yi touch her again and Ah'll dae mair than stoat yer spine in!" he roared.

Jack shoved his chair back. He got to his feet suddenly. Fergus jumped up too.

"Alright then, you Weejie piece of crap!" Jack shouted, ripping off his long blue coat.

"Yi smarmy buftie, ye!" he growled, throwing himself at him.

Jack got his hands to his throat. Fergus grabbed his shoulders and wrenched him closer. Their heads cracked together. Jack let go. Fergus followed his slight retreat. He punched him across the face with all his weight.

Jack staggered and grabbed at the table for support. He turned and ran at Fergus. They went down in a heap. The battle was joined.

-------------------------------------------------

The armoured vehicle trundled peacefully down the road, heading for the largest building. Martha giggled from her perch behind the seated Doctor.

"What?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.

"I don't think they built these things for the taller Gallifreyan," she pointed out.

He was sitting on the tiny driver's seat, his hands out on the controls in front of him. He had had to brace his battered black Converse against the console too, his knees bent up round his ears.

"Krimmanhellanian," he shrugged, although he did appear to appreciate the humour of the situation. "At least we don't have to walk."

"True," she smiled. She lifted her goggles to rub an eye. "How much further?"

"Half an hour?" he hazarded, leaning forward to press some switches. "Good thing this has a map."

"Isn't it," she said. She looked up at the screen. "So why is this here?"

"Uhhm, because the Klyst homeworld bought them in bulk from Krimmanhell?" he guessed. "I suppose that's where they're getting a lot of their money from."

"Doctor," she said gingerly.

"Hmm?"

"Well… When we find this power source and shut it down… won't the machine go offline?"

"Not for a few hours. It has reserves."

"Right." She paused. "And… after that… What happens to Glasgow?"

"It'll disappear," he sighed sadly. "Like it never was. Which it wasn't. Not really."

"Right. Well… we are doing the right thing here, aren't we?" she said. He turned slightly in his seat, as much as he could.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, wary.

"Well… It does seem like… like having a new planet with so much space for settlers and families… Couldn't it work?" she asked.

The Doctor smiled behind his mask, a sad, apologetic show.

"No," he said quietly. "It couldn't be maintained forever. In a few hundred years it would collapse, and the millions of beings on Glasgow would find themselves floating back toward Krimmanhell unaided." He paused, then smiled again. "Who was it that said the road to Hell was paved with good intentions?"

"I see," she said, nodding unhappily. "I see."

"Don't worry about it. At least we can get it turned off before people actually land on the place. Shame, really. Would be nice to think there was another Glasgow in the universe. A clean one," he sniffed.

She let herself smile and the vehicle trundled on.

-------------------------------------------------

Bronnin looked over at her sister.

"Well I need more tea," she said quietly. "You?"

"No," she said sharply. "Thanks," she added, apologetic. Bronnin offered her a smile and got up from the high chair watching the Time Rotor. She picked up her tea mug and walked around to the galley door.

It was heavy and she pushed on it with a grunt, slowly getting used to the steady swing of it. She walked into the galley, about to put her cup down.

She heard something smash and jumped, looking round.

A chair flew over onto its back, growling and spitting. The table rocked and the vintage _Harrods_ salt and pepper shakers on it tumbled over. She slid into the room with her back against the door warily, bending to look under the table.

She straightened, thought about it, and then bent to look under again. She drew in a deep breath.

"What the _Romm'kvar_ do you think you're doing?" she shouted sharply.

"Clear off!" Jack shouted, struggling to get his hands to Fergus's throat. Fergus whipped an elbow into his face and they rolled. They banged into the table leg, sending another chair flying.

Bronnin gritted her teeth and marched over. She wrenched the chairs out the way and pushed the table soundly, shoving it over. She lifted a foot and stamped it down on Jack's shoulder, pinning him down on top of Fergus. She bent over and grabbed his earlobe, pinching her long nails into it painfully.

"Get up!" she shouted, yanking on the earlobe.

Jack cried out in pain and shock, feeling the drag on his ear. She pulled harshly and he had to let go of Fergus. He pushed himself to his knees quickly, following her pull. He was too busy getting his breath back to protest.

"Aw bloody hell," Fergus muttered, panting for breath.

"And you!" Bronnin shouted, pointing down at Fergus with her other hand. "Don't you dare move!"

She wrenched on Jack's ear to pull him clear of the Scot, yanking him round to look him in the face.

"Hey, lady, could you –"

"I have never seen such a degenerate pair of juvenile ruffians!" she shouted into his face. "We are on standby, waiting to see if Martha and the Doctor need any help, and you two are _brawling like five year olds_!"

"Well –"

"_Shut up_!" she raged. Jack closed his mouth quickly. "Now I swear, by all Romm gods _and their brothers_, if you two do not start acting like the grown-ups you pretend to be, I shall push you out of those big blue doors and we'll see _how long you last in Klyst's air_!"

Jack just nodded tamely, and she let go of his ear with a push. He winced and grabbed it, massaging some feeling back into it.

"And you!" she shouted at Fergus, still getting to his feet laboriously. "Get the tea on! I'm going back to monitor their progress, and you'd better make _hanairkwat_ sure that's _all you do_!"

She turned on her heel and marched out, leaving the door open behind her.

Jack cleared his throat, sounding just slightly embarrassed. Fergus sniffed, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Was that a swear word she used just now?" Jack asked curiously.

"Aye, Ah think it was," Fergus allowed, as they both still stared at the door.

"Well, fuck me," Jack observed.

Fergus looked at him, and Jack turned to the slightly shorter Scot. He couldn't help it; he started to laugh. And then Fergus did too.


	11. Chapter 11

**TWENTY-FIVE**

The Doctor brought the armoured vehicle to a stop and unfolded himself from around the seat. He pushed the hatch open and popped his head out.

Martha watched him lever himself up and out of the hatch, then turn to the hole and stretch his arm down.

She put her feet on the driver's seat and grasped his wrist in her hand firmly. He grinned down at her suddenly as he took her wrist and she paused.

"What?" she asked through the mask.

"Nothing. Just… feels like old times," he admitted.

She smiled and pulled on him to get leverage, and he helped her lift out of the hatch. He let go of her and turned, sliding over the edge and landing by the gun platform, wiping his hands together.

"Looks deserted," he said curiously, as Martha slid over the edge and landed next to him.

"I thought this was supposed to be some kind of parliament building?" she asked, wiping her hands on her jeans.

"Well that's what the map in the tank said," he confirmed. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out Jack's PDA, fiddling with the buttons.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Jack, helpfully shifty bugger that he is, got a tracking device on the Premier before we left her," he said, sounding pre-occupied as he stared at the small screen. "All we have to do is find out where she went and retrace her steps. I'm willing to bet she's been back to check on the power router before having to explain to her boss why she still doesn't have her machine back."

"Let's hope so," Martha said. She watched the Doctor's face look troubled. "What is it?"

"Well… Looks like she was here. Then she… wasn't," he added, confused.

"You mean she left?"

"No, I mean, one minute she was registering in square room on the seventh floor, the next minute she was just… not anywhere."

"Maybe something in the room interferes with signals?" she hazarded.

"Or… she literally _was_n't there," he said, biting his lip. "I shouldn't have left her to it."

"Right, well…" She took a deep breath. "Let's get in there and find out, shall we?"

-------------------------------------------------

"Inda, dear!" the little old man called, and the small head instantly appeared round the doorframe. "Ah, there are you. I need you to organise an errand for me, my sweet."

The head shifted and the body to which it belonged emerged, hurrying across the carpet holding a data pad in its scrawny little hands.

"What can I do for you?" she rasped. It was a dusty, ancient noise, like dried out leaves when disturbed.

"It rather seems I have some co-ordinates for you, my dear. Our machine is here, on Klyst. It's thirty stums from the city, just across the field," he said cheerfully. "Could you be a dear and have it retrieved for me?"

"I could," she replied helpfully, exposing two rows of glistening white teeth in perfect arrangement. "Should I expect resistance?"

"Oh, I should think so," he said, his smile fading. "Apparently there are three men in charge of it. From the information I've been given, it appears all three of them are not indigenous to any of the local systems. You might want to consider arming the boys with that in mind," he added.

"Noted," she smiled. "A straight retrieval? Smash and grab?"

"I leave the entire operation up to you, Inda my dear. I trust you to carry it out to my satisfaction, as always."

"Thank you," she beamed, turning and walking out surprisingly quickly for someone of her apparent years.

He leaned back in the chair, thinking. Then he shook his head dismissively and leaned forward again, pulling the computer terminal closer to him.

-------------------------------------------------

The Doctor let them into the building easily enough, finding the air inside as toxic as it was outside. He and Martha hurried across the lobby to the main lifts.

"I think I've spent half of my lives in lifts," he muttered, leaning on the button in a vain attempt to summon it more quickly.

"Better lifts than running up and down stairs," she shrugged.

"Point taken," he said. He looked up as they heard the lift ping. "Here we are then. _Allons_-y," he sniffed, waving her in through the open doors.

They stepped in and he pressed the button for the seventh floor. The doors closed and whooshed upwards with an abrupt shiver.

"Ooh," Martha blurted, putting her hand to the wall quickly for balance. "For a place that can make tanks and stuff, they're not great at making lifts, are they?"

"No-one cares if a tank pitches from side to side," he pointed out pedantically.

"Alright you. Tell me what we're doing when we get to the seventh floor."

"We're walking out and looking around for the Premier – or evidence that she was here. And then we're looking for the main controls for the power router. It should be pretty easy to find," he said, pulling Jack's PDA from his pocket.

"So this thing is routing power from the sun, and operating a reverse black hole thing, and somehow managing it all into power, just to feed the tiny little machine sat on your grating?" she asked slowly, thinking it through.

"Yep," he said smartly, pocketing the PDA and looking at the doors as they opened briskly. "Right. Be careful," he said darkly, stepping out first and looking left and right. She followed him out and they walked toward the office doors on the left.

"Looks like a temping agency," she whispered as they stopped by the first door. He veered away from the window quickly, grabbing her arm and yanking her back with him. He rushed them through another door and closed it behind him.

She kept her mouth shut and stared at him in the dark, and they listened.

"Report back to me as soon as you find it," a dry, female voice said harshly. There was a sound like metal rattling or perhaps the tinkling of cutlery, and then feet pounded over the carpet.

He released her arm slowly and looked at the door. He put his hand on the doorknob but then hesitated as they heard more voices and more boots on carpet. He looked down at her, then back at the door.

Suddenly it was wrenched open. Martha screamed in fright. She grabbed onto the Doctor's tux shirt. He himself blurted some word not wholly appropriate as his fingers tightened on her arms.

A small, wizened head looked up at them both, grinning.

"Well good afternoon," Inda said pleasantly.

"_Crikey_!" he shouted, staring at her with more accusation than a traffic copper does a young lad driving Daddy's BMW. "You could have knocked!"

"You could have introduced yourselves instead of skulk around thinking I couldn't hear you, young man," she said cheerfully, but there was something decidedly judgemental about her.

Martha took a deep breath and swallowed it down.

"We're – we're looking for whomever's in charge," she breathed.

"Really? From the looks of you, you were simply looking to get a room," she said snidely, tilting a single eyebrow at her.

Martha looked down at herself, quickly letting go of the Doctor and pulling her mask straight. She squared her shoulders, then glanced at the Doctor. She tutted and reached up, putting his shirt collar straight for him.

"Done?" Inda asked archly.

"I have a feeling we're about to be," the Doctor said warily, looking down at the small female. "Can we get out of here now?"

"Of course," she said primly, stepping back and waving a hand out.

The Doctor took Martha's hand firmly, leading her out of the room to look up and down hallway again.

"Well?" he asked, rocking back on his heels as he watched the tiny female close the door. "Are we being arrested or interviewed?"

"Which would you prefer?" he asked politely.

"Uhhm… let me see… Interview for me, please," he said politely. "Do we get tea?"

"Perhaps."

"Any biscuits?" he said hopefully. Martha nudged him as the small female turned on her heel and walked off, tipping a finger over her shoulder at them.

"Walk this way," she called.

"Not in these shoes," the Doctor replied cheerfully, pulling Martha on behind him as they walked.

They followed her to a large set of wooden doors, very ornate and highly polished. The small woman knocked briskly before opening them wide and walking in.

"A gentleman and lady here to see you," she said pleasantly. "The man fits the description of one of the men from the Premier's report."

"Ah. Very good. Show them in," the equally small old man said, appearing relieved.

"Of course," she said happily, turning and walking back to the doors. She looked round the doorframe. "Don't dawdle," she snapped at the pair, still staring around them.

The Doctor sniffed languidly and led Martha in behind him. He looked around at the square office as he strolled up toward the desk.

"Good afternoon, young man," the small male said pleasantly.

"It's far from good, and I'm far from young," he allowed warily. "Who are you?"

"So direct. Wouldn't you like some tea?" he said nicely. The Doctor looked around slowly, then back at him. "Something for your lady friend, perhaps? Like a bath?"

Martha lifted her chin defiantly. "Do you want to know how far you'd fly unaided, little man?" she snapped.

"Martha Jones," the Doctor said from the corner of his mouth. She closed her mouth quickly.

"Oh, very good," the little old man said, clasping his hands together and grinning. "Such sport. Well then, to business. What can I do for you?"

"I think it's more what we can do for you," the Doctor said curiously, letting go of Martha's fingers to turn and look round the room. "We have something that belongs to you. I'm assuming you'd like it back?" he hazarded, looking back at the old man.

"Sounds intriguing," he grinned delightedly. "Are you about to bargain with me?"

"I'm thinking about it," he nodded. "First I have a few questions. I mean, I'm quite impressed with how you've set all this up, how you've put it all together. But… Well, there's just a thing or two that I'm stuck on."

"Oh dear," he said, his voice dripping with sympathy. "Well we can't have that, now can we?" He sat forwards, lacing his fingers on the old-fashioned blotting paper board. "What would you like to know?"

"The reach of those teleporters you're using," he said slowly.

"Roughly six hundred and forty million stums," he said pleasantly. The Doctor blinked.

"That's about one point six four one AU – a hundred and fifty two million, six hundred and fifteen thousand three hundred and eighty four point six one five four miles," he sniffed. "Wait a minute – you're using stums?" he asked, then snapped his fingers. "Oh my sainted screwdriver – you're not even from Klyst, are you?" he grinned.

"Ah," the old man said quickly, his face dropping for the first time. "Now wait–"

"You're from Hadoori!" he crowed victoriously, running a hand through his hair and pinning his fringe back as he laughed. "Hadoorians! Well at _last_!"

"I had no idea we were known outside of –"

"Oh don't sell yourself short!" the Doctor scoffed, his eyes wide, his grin wide but cynical. Suddenly his buoyant humour made Martha start to feel the first shades of discomfort. He shoved his hands in his pockets, turning gracefully on his toes to look at the little man. "Who hasn't heard of the fifty year war of Blatisfarlong Major?" he grinned slyly. "Or the six year famine of its closest neighbour, Gertali Prime? And I was not happy about that, I don't mind telling you – I _liked_ Gertali Prime, before you lot came and turned it into a potato hunt."

The little man smiled tightly and sat back.

"You're extremely well travelled for such a young man," he allowed.

"I've said it before but obviously your little old ears didn't pick it up – I'm far from young," the Doctor said, suddenly sharp. The man's smile faded quickly. "So this is the Hadoorians' latest money-making venture, is it?" he accused.

"That depends on the time scale to which you are used," he allowed neatly.

"Oh believe me, there is no time scale without me," he said firmly. "So come on then, how long has this thing been going on? And I'm not talking about Glasgow, or the machine being on, I'm talking how long you lot have been working on this – planning, selling, investing all those hard-working city types' hard-earned money," he said sarcastically.

"My lot? You assume too much, my not-so-young friend," he said with a wide smile. "You travelled up in the lift, did you not?"

"We did," he nodded. "Very nice it was too."

"Thank you. I shall make sure I pass your compliments on to the building management," he said. "Oh wait, that's me."

"I _see_," the Doctor said, running his tongue over his back teeth thoughtfully. "So in actual fact, this whole thing is just you and Rosa Klebb out there?"

"_Inda_ and I are all that are left of the proud race, whose fate we escaped, so long ago," he said, somewhat sadly.

"Really?" the Doctor asked curiously, then looked around the room. He lifted his mask suddenly, taking a deep sniff and then dropping it back into place quickly. "What did happen to them all?"

"Plague. Engineered plague – it literally blew up in their faces before it could be delivered to the planet for which it was created," he sighed.

"Poetic justice then," Martha put in angrily.

"Some might say," he allowed. "But come come, we're not here to talk about me," he said, looking back over at the Doctor. "You were about to bargain, I believe?"

"_Well_… alright. Kinda," he allowed brightly. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and _assume_ you want your Dark Matter machine back."

"Ah – again, you assume without the pertinent facts. I know you have my Dark Matter machine. I also know where it is. And I know one more thing, too," he said happily.

"What's that?" Martha asked quickly.


	12. Chapter 12

**TWENTY-SIX**

Bronnin and Kickick sat on the high chairs, swinging their legs and nursing cold cups of tea.

"So you're going to follow Fergus, rather than make him follow you?" Bronnin asked quietly.

"I thought about what you said. And I was mean to you," the older sister admitted. "Sorry."

"All sisters are mean. That's why they're called sisters," Bronnin said a little glumly.

"Right girls, hir yi are," Fergus said from behind them, carrying a tray with four cups on it. "Gie me them cold ones, Ah've fresh ones fae yi hir."

"Fergus, you're too kind," Kickick said, then paused as she saw his face. "What _has_ happened to you?" she asked, shocked.

Fergus avoided her gaze, licking a sore lip and feeling his cheekbones ache.

"Och, nothing important," he said dismissively, as Jack came up behind him, minus his long coat.

"Jack!" Kickick said, taking in the grazes and cuts on his face. Then she looked at Fergus, accusation written all over her delicate features. "Fergus?" she asked pointedly.

There was a clinking, tinkling noise from the doors.

All of them looked over. Jack put his hands up for silence, then ran down the ramp and put his ear to the door.

He straightened and reached for his service revolver, opening it and checking it for rounds quickly.

"What is it?" Fergus demanded, leaving the tray on the console and hurrying down.

"Someone's trying to get in," Jack said, then leaned closer to the inside of the door. "Well you ain't!" he shouted.

The noise stopped and Jack and Fergus eyed each other.

"Open the doors!" came a booming male voice.

"Kiss my ass!" Jack called back angrily. Fergus pushed at his shoulder and he looked at him. "What?" he asked, confused.

"If thir trying tae get in, whir are thi Skipper and Martha?" he asked quickly. "Use yurr heid, man."

"I am. They can't get in here as long as we don't open the Chubb lock, remember?"

Fergus looked back at the door as they heard the unmistakeable sound of a spinning blade.

"Oh boy. That better not be what I think it is," Jack breathed.

There was the sound of blade on wood and all sorts, and then it hit metal.

"It is. Thir jig-sawing oot thi lock!" Fergus gasped. "Bollocks, bugger and bloody hell!" he hissed. "Noe what?"

"Now," Jack said, looking around the main room quickly, "we hide the ladies and do our best to show these boys how much they're not wanted."

"We don't knoe hoe many of 'em thir are," Fergus pointed out. "And they'll huv weapons – all we've got is that wee antique in yurr hands."

"Hey," he said, hurt. "This is going to do quite a lot of damage, despite its looks." He gestured to the girls with his head. "Hide them in one of those confusing zig-zagging corridors back there."

"Aye."

Fergus turned to run but there was the sound of metal hitting the ground. He paused, then turned back to look at the doors.

"Get back! All of you, head for the deepest part of the ship!" Jack shouted quickly, turning and pushing Fergus on.

He turned and they ran up to the console. They grabbed a girl each and were almost to the first alcove when the doors burst open.

A single soldier leapt through the left hand door, now hanging off the hinge. He had his long barrelled rifle raised and ready. He paused as he looked around, suddenly confused.

"Go! Go! Go!" Jack shouted at the others.

The soldier waved a hand and made some sound in the direction of his colleagues. Somewhere between a horde and a legion of soldiers piled into the TARDIS unchecked. They spilled out, forming a rough line to cover all parts of the main room through their rifle sights.

"Don't move!" shouted the same booming voice.

Jack stopped abruptly, hearing the whine of a power charge through multiple weapons. He slid the safety back on his own revolver, dropping his hands and palming it expertly so as not to be seen.

He turned slowly to look at all the soldiers. But his left hand with the gun connected with Fergus's.

"Take it," he hissed. "Whatever happens next, leave me behind to sort this thing out," he added.

"What?" Fergus demanded.

"Silence!" the lead soldier snapped, holding his weapon on them as he inched up toward them. "You girls! Step forward!"

Bronnin and Kickick did as told very slowly, their long limbs shaking slightly as they stepped onto the ramp.

"Don't hurt them," Fergus growled.

"Don't," Jack hissed.

The soldier nodded to the three squaddies behind him and they shifted their aim towards the girls. He then trained his sights on the young Scot exclusively.

"Now you two," the soldier ordered. Jack let his eyes sweep round the room, counting heads. He took a deep breath, then started to walk down the ramp.

"Now come on boys," he said charmingly, lifting his hands to show they were empty. "I'm sure there's something much more fun we could all be doing. Especially with so many handsome young men in uniform."

He got a snarl and narrowed eyes from the soldier who appeared to be in charge.

"You, shut your mouth. Get the machine," he snapped.

"Fine. There's no need to be rude," Jack tutted. He turned back and went to the centre console, bending down to remove the cables from the machine carefully. "How'd you know this thing was here, anyway?"

"Bring it and shut up!" the soldier shouted.

"Wow, and everyone told me Klyst was inhospitable," he said sarcastically to himself, lifting the machine and walking down the ramp with it.

He held it out slightly, but the solider snapped his fingers and two others appeared. They took the machine from him quickly, disappearing.

Jack used the soldier's momentary lapse in concentration.

He threw himself at the soldier and his gun. There was a long moment that Fergus would remember for the rest of his life.

He saw Jack's hands reaching for the gun. He saw the soldier try to shrink back. Jack grasped the barrel of the weapon. The soldier jerked it free and swept it into Jack's head. He turned like lightning and made a grab for the gun.

The soldier simply turned and fired.

A hole the size of an orange appeared abruptly in Jack's chest. Blood spattered from the exit wound in his back. He looked weary, but not surprised, as he toppled backwards and fell.

The girls screamed.

"Check him!" the soldier ordered, ignoring the noise of the two girls. He stepped back, keeping his rifle on Fergus carefully as another soldier knelt and felt for Jack's pulse in his neck. He searched all over, but there was nothing to find.

"Dead, sir," he said quickly.

"Then move. Go!" he snapped.

Fergus looked down at Jack, then up at the soldier. And then he took a deep breath, swallowed, and put his arms round the girls.

They held onto him and silenced their fears, walking slowly and calmly out of the TARDIS.

They were met by more soldiers who simply thrust breathing masks at them and then pushed them roughly to the transports.

As the trucks turned toward the city, Fergus held onto the hands of the two girls resolutely.

But he was looking out of the window.

"Yi knoe," he said wisely to the soldier watching them at point-blank range, his rifle never wavering. "If yi'd just arrested us, Ah could huv excused that. But yi've ripped her doors off – yi've _hurt_ her, and yi've killed a good friend o' thi Skipper's. And that's two things Ah could never excuse."

"Poor Jack," Kickick whispered, but Fergus was staring at the soldier. He was staring back, a slight smug smile almost apparent.

"So enjoy yaself while yi can, pal. Yir smiling noe, but yi'll be regretting this later. Ah'll make bloody sure."

And he turned to look back out of the window.

-------------------------------------------------

"I know that, very shortly, I will have the Dark Matter machine back safely. And then I can decide what to do with you," the old man said.

There was a brisk knock at the open door and Inda was sticking her head round it.

"Ah, Inda dear. Progress?"

"They have secured the machine, and some prisoners," she said, sounding slightly surprised.

"Oh splendid," the man said, grinning. "Well done dear, you really are a marvel."

"It was nothing," she said smugly, her head disappearing back round the door.

"There you are, my mature friend, we have the machine back in our possession already," he beamed. "With what would you care to bargain now, hmm?"

"Ooh, how about… I've got some vintage collectable Smurfs? Or a mint condition 1983 _Star Wars_ Tie Fighter – still in the box," he said flippantly.

"I can see you are full of big talk, my friend," he smiled. The Doctor looked down at his shirt front.

"No, that's butter," he said helpfully, wiping at a small imaginary stain on the cotton. "Got into a food fight. Long story. _Anyway_," he stressed, sniffing and turning round in a circle, looking round the room slowly. "I think there's one more thing you need."

"Oh?" he asked, amused.

"Well there's no point having that Dark Matter machine if you can't control the power going in, is there?" he asked.

"And _your_ point, seeing as we have everything under control in that department?" he drawled.

"My point. Yes. My point. Myyyy… point," the Doctor said, nodding helpfully as his brain whirred at over five thousand r.p.m.

"We have the other machine," Martha said suddenly.

"What?" the man said clearly. The Doctor looked over at her quickly, and she folded her arms, gesturing to the man with her head.

"The _other_ one," she said between clenched teeth. "The parallel one?"

"Oh! Yes! So we do!" the Doctor cried with a grin, turning to look at the man.

"What other one?" he asked, confused.

"Oh dear me!" the Doctor laughed, then looked at Martha. "He's thick, isn't he!"

"What other one?" he demanded loudly, riled.

"You used a Dark Matter machine to create a parallel universe," the Doctor said slowly, his eye wide and condescending. "And it did exactly as you instructed. So it made a copy of _everything_ – including itself. That was its brief, after all – copy _everything_." He giggled in apparent surprise at the small man's confusion, shaking his head and tutting. "So the theory goes like this – switch on the parallel one and stand back, cos quite frankly, it'd tear a hole the size of Elvis Presley's rhinestone jumpsuit in your cute little Glasgow bubble, wouldn't it?"

"That is pure conjecture."

"Is it? Hmm… I wonder," he said, pinning the man with a look that could have been broken up and served in drinks. "Shall we try it and see?"

"Ah. Now _you're_ forgetting one thing," he said. "You'd have to get out of here alive, first."

"Ah. Yes," the Doctor said, shrugging. "There is that. But if push comes to shove –"

"What? You'll sacrifice yourself for some half-baked plan to get the machine back?" the old man snorted. "Please, don't make me laugh."

"They're back," Inda said suddenly through the door.

"Excellent," the man said, rubbing his hands together. "Well show the prisoners in, and have the machine taken down to the lab," he said.

Martha and the Time Lord exchanged a look before turning to the doors.

Fergus walked in, Kickick tucked in under his arm and Bronnin wandering along behind, her face white and her hands tightly clasped. Martha looked round them but there were only soldiers.

"Where's Jack?" she asked quickly. "Fergus?"

"He ah… He tried tae stop 'em," he said quietly. "Only, Ah don't think it went as he planned."

The Doctor looked at Martha for the briefest of seconds. "Oh," he breathed quietly, drawing Fergus's gaze over to him sharply, "I think it went exactly as he planned."


	13. Chapter 13

**TWENTY-SEVEN**

Jack gasped in air and winced, rolling to his side on the grating and groaning with the slight stiffness in his bones.

"Oh am I ever getting too old for _this_ shit," he moaned, getting to his feet and looking around. "And it's Hell on my shirts," he added, putting his hand to the charred and bloodied hole in it and the t-shirt underneath.

He stretched, hissed with the stiffness, and walked up to the centre console slowly. He pulled at the monitor, looking it over and adjusting some dials quickly.

"A-ha!" he grinned, then raced round to the galley. He pulled on his long blue coat before running back round, stopping in a doorway.

He paused, looking in.

"Now _that_," he said grimly, picking up the spare mask, "is going to come in very handy."

-------------------------------------------------

"Inda, my sweet!" the little man called, and she re-appeared round the doorway. "I think our guests have rather out-lived their usefulness. Could you be a dear and have them all disposed of, please? I'd hate for them to get in the way later on."

"My pleasure," she said politely.

She walked into the room proper and waved her hands at the soldiers. They simply lowered their weapons and stepped back quickly. She walked up to the Doctor, putting her hands on her hips and eyeing him.

"Are you going to be trouble, or can we just get this over with?" she asked.

"No, I suppose we should just get this over with," he sighed sadly, shrugging his hands into his pockets.

Inda stepped back and looked round at the soldiers.

"Take them down to the lab, room four H, and dispose of them. Afterwards, feed the bodies into the furnace. I don't want anything left," she instructed sharply.

"Yes ma'am," the lead soldier said quickly, snapping-to and saluting. The Doctor looked at him curiously as they raised weapons again. His eyes ran over his uniform, then he blinked with some sudden realisation, looking round at the others. He nodded to himself.

"Doctor?" Martha asked quietly.

He turned and looked at her.

"Yes. Sorry. Let's go then, shall we?" he said pointedly, putting his hand out. She looked down at it for a long moment, watching his fingers wiggle invitingly. She swallowed and grasped it firmly, looking back up into his large brown eyes that radiated secrecy and cunning. She felt herself smile slyly.

"Yes, let's," she allowed.

They turned and walked out slowly, Fergus pushing the two girls before him as he left the room slowly.

They were ushered out into the corridor and over to the lift, where Inda was waiting for them, arms folded.

"So… you and him, you're pretty old, aren't you?" the Doctor said innocently. "Go on – you can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

"You won't have the opportunity," she smiled. "You are correct. We also master-minded Gertali Prime's famine," she added as the lift doors opened. She kept her long finger on the button as they were pushed in, along with six large men with rifles.

The Doctor watched everyone pack in slowly, then turned his large eyes on the uniforms of all the men.

"Goodbye, young man. Don't worry, they're very good shots, it'll be over quickly," she said. As the lift doors closed she waved her fingers quickly.

Martha closed her eyes and leaned on his arm slightly, and he looked at her brightly.

"Skipper – Ah'm sorry," Fergus said immediately, as the lift whooshed down.

"For what?" he asked, clueless, as he turned to look at him.

"Jack. Ah'm so sorry, man. He was trying tae help us," he ground out. "Ah'm sorry Ah didn't stop him. Ah'm sorry he's deid."

"I wouldn't worry about it," the Doctor shrugged, "he's always been an attention-seeker."

Martha looked at her feet.

"What?" Bronnin demanded angrily. "That man died trying to save us!"

"He did. Which either makes him a hero or an idiot," the Doctor mused, looking at the ceiling. "Judging by the number of men they must have sent to secure you, I'm going to go with 'idiot'," he added matter-of-factly.

"And Ah defended you tae him!" Fergus growled. "Yi ungrateful bastard!"

"Now now," the Doctor said serenely, turning to look at Fergus with slight amusement. "Wait for all the facts to be in before you judge."

"What?" Bronnin asked stonily. But the Doctor just winked and turned back to the doors. The two sisters exchanged a glance, confused.

"For example," the Doctor said pleasantly as the lift stopped and the doors opened. "Take this lot. Now here we are, standing on a planet whose air is so toxic we're wearing masks. Do you see anyone else wearing them?" he asked innocently.

"Move!" the soldier snapped, turning and pushing him out by the shoulder.

"Go on then, why don't they huv masks?" Fergus asked, but Bronnin gasped and tapped his shoulder. He looked at her and she nodded at the nearest soldier. "What?" he asked.

"His name," she whispered.

"All of you – move!" the soldier growled, pushing them into the large white science laboratory and toward a door at the back of the room.

Fergus looked at the name tag on the man's uniform.

"168A/6," he read out. "Not much of a name, is it?" he said to himself. Then his face cleared. "Skipper!"

"Oh yes," he grinned, then turned to Martha. He gestured slightly with his head, and she stepped much closer. He bent slightly, then whispered: "When I say run."

She nodded, then looked over at Fergus and the girls. She tipped her head back slightly, as if to nod, and Fergus watched her, confused.

The soldier pushed at him and he carried on walking, pulling the two girls with him. Bronnin was still watching the Doctor with anger, but she said nothing more.

Martha heard the familiar sound of a sonic screwdriver and it came: "Run!"

She let go of the Doctor's hand. She turned and grabbed Bronnin's arm as she heard an impossibly loud creaking sound.

They all looked up to see the diffuser for the largest lights in the ceiling come crashing down. The metal hit the floor and twisted up on impact, scattering the occupants of the room.

Martha didn't look back. She pulled on Bronnin and the two girls ran for the door ahead of them. Fergus pulled on Kickick's arm and the Doctor pushed them all forwards.

They heard shots fired and shouts of the soldiers.

The Doctor pushed them roughly through the door and turned, slamming it behind him. He waved the screwdriver over the door lock, fusing it shut.

"Right! We're not getting out that way!" he told them, turning to look at them all. "Now listen. We have to get to the control grid somewhere in one of these labs. We have to open the main doors, disrupt the power router's carrier wave, grab the machine back and get back to the TARDIS. Any questions?"

"Who are we opening the main doors for?" Kickick asked, breathless.

"For the cavalry," the Doctor grinned.

"Why are we disrupting carrier waves?" Bronnin asked quickly. There was shouting and pounding against the door, and the Doctor looked around.

"Those soldiers, and the last two Hadoorians – they're cybernetic organisms," he rattled off, pushing through the crowd and going to the three doors at the other end of the room. "They don't need air, they don't breathe, which is why they don't need masks."

"And the carrier wave?"

"I'm guessing they're all being fed off the same power source," he said quickly, putting his hand out and opening a door. "Once we disable it, they'll all go onto standby."

"You're _guessing_?" Bronnin gasped.

"Yep," he said smartly, pushing his head through the door. He pulled it out again and looked back at them all, staring back at him dumb-founded. "Well don't just stand there! Take a door each! Find something that looks like the Manchester Telephone Exchange and find the big shut-down button!"

"Right," Fergus said quickly, taking Kickick's hand and pulling her to the door on the far right.

Martha looked at Bronnin, and they immediately moved to the middle door. The Doctor watched them all disappear through the doors, then opened his again and walked in quickly.

-------------------------------------------------

Fergus and Kickick crept through the large room, Kickick watching nervously for any sign of soldiers. Fergus looked around carefully, shaking his head.

"Thir's nothing hir," he observed, frustrated. "Their no gonnae huv a main control board in a room like this."

"Well what about the room beyond that door?" she said, pointing to a door at the far end, off to the right.

"Come on then," he said, speeding up. She followed.

-------------------------------------------------

"Nothing," Bronnin whispered, and Martha shook her head. She stopped in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips, thinking.

"If you had a lab for huge great experiments, where would you hide it?" she wondered out loud.

"At the end of a huge great power cable?" Bronnin hazarded. Martha looked at her, then where she was pointing. "Like that one?"

"Could be," she grinned, and they hurried to the other end of the room. They looked up and followed the immensely thick power cable running up and into the ceiling. Martha pulled over a stool and stood on it quickly, jumping up on tip-toes to push the ceiling tile upwards.

It jumped up and fell out, catching her on the head as it fell to the floor.

"Lucky that was only plastic," Bronnin said warily, then looked up. "What's up there?"

"I don't know," she said, then looked around the room and huffed. "We need a ladder to follow this thing."

"Hang on!" Bronnin urged, then turned and raced off. Martha turned on the stool and watched her struggle to carry over a bright red A-frame ladder made of some kind of heavy metal.

"You alright with that?" she asked immediately, but Bronnin shook her head dismissively.

"Fine," she puffed, putting the ladder down and opening it quickly. Martha transferred herself to it and climbed up. She stuck her head in the hole in the ceiling and coughed slightly, before pulling her head back out.

"It goes on for miles," she warned.

"Then let's not waste any time," Bronnin said, putting her hands to the rungs of the ladder and starting to climb.

-------------------------------------------------

The Doctor walked through the room slowly, pulling out his screwdriver and flicking it on.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," he breathed in a sing-song, watching the blue light as he waved it from one side of him to the other. "Nothing."

He huffed and looked around, then something made him pause. He looked back to his right and spotted a large window. Inside appeared to be dark, and yet there were tiny points of light.

He hurried over but his feet almost stumbled as he realised what he was looking at.

He walked to the glass slowly, almost afraid to breathe, as he leaned on the window and let his forehead rest against the glass. He put his palms out flat against the cool surface, transfixed by the sight before him.

The complete blackness was a shock. It was immense, immeasurable, infinite. The depth of the nothingness was insane, the breadth of the enormity a vacuum in his brain.

And yet… and yet…

Buried deep in the ball of non-space were tiny diamonds, indistinct flecks of matter. They glinted and glittered, all by themselves, as if they had no idea anything would ever detect them.

The Doctor was lost in the majesty of the swirling bending nothingness, the absolute that slowly began to warp his brain and suck out his will to concentrate. It just kept swirling and blending, sucking and moving.

And as his eyes began to glaze over, he realised he'd been trapped.


	14. Chapter 14

**TWENTY-EIGHT**

Martha sneezed on the dust before she stopped and looked back at Bronnin.

"Just a bit more," she said encouragingly. Martha recovered some breath and they carried on down the tiny air-vent tunnel, toward the square of light.

"It's getting warmer," she observed. They shuffled up but Bronnin grabbed her arm quickly. Martha froze and they listened.

There was the indistinct but definite sounds of people talking, chattering. They sounded bored, pre-occupied.

Bronnin inched up and looked down through the grating in the floor between her elbows. She counted three scientists, bearing a remarkable resemblance to Inda, working half-heartedly at a very large control console. It looked like a cross between a circuit board and a fusebox.

She leaned back slowly, nodding to Martha. She inched back and disappeared a good twenty feet whence they'd come, taking her phone from her pocket and flipping it open. Bronnin looked down again slowly as she dialled.

"Fergus, where are you?" she whispered into the phone.

"We're going roond in circles, hen," he said sadly. "Yi got anything?"

"Looks like we've found it," she whispered. "Go back to the middle room, go up the ladder in the middle. We're there."

"Are yi needing a distraction?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes," she whispered. "We can see right down into the room, but there are three male things in there. Can you draw them out?"

"We can certainly try," he said, and the line was cut.

Martha dialled again. The phone rang and rang, but no-one answered. She bit her lip, worried. She waited, then looked up the tunnel at Bronnin. She was still watching through the grate faithfully.

She hung up the line and dialled again. She waited it out, and eventually was cut off.

_Doctor, where are you?_ she wondered. She sniffed, closing the phone and sliding it back in her pocket. She inched her way back up alongside Bronnin, looking down carefully.

Bronnin looked up at her, then gestured to the grating with her head. Martha smiled but waved a finger slowly.

They waited.

-------------------------------------------------

Fergus and Kickick hurried back out to the main room, then turned and ran through the other, middle door. They ran through the room, finding the ladder in the middle and looking around.

"Right," Fergus said quickly, "you take that door thir," he said, pointing to the one at the far end. "Ah'm gonnae–"

They froze as they heard a metallic clanging sound from somewhere above. Fergus looked up slowly, Kickick moving backwards to stand against the wall.

"Don't move," he whispered hoarsely, locating the source of the noise. He stepped back, picked up a wooden stool in his hands, and looked up again.

A single piece of metal grating suddenly erupted from the ceiling and crashed to the floor. There was a lot of muttering and cursing before a big pair of boots emerged, and then a bundle of blue dropped to the floor with a crash.

"Fucking vents!" came an anguished growl, and Fergus stood, open-mouthed, as Jack Harkness picked himself up off the floor and began dusting himself off.

"Jack!" Kickick shouted, surprised.

He turned and looked at her.

"Hey! Where is everyone?" he asked quickly, putting his hands to the pockets in his long blue coat and pulling out his revolver and a PDA.

"Er – Fergus is–" she began.

"Yi bastard!" the Scot blurted accusingly. "We all thought yi wir deid!"

"You thought I was what?" he asked, confused.

"Deid!"

"What?"

"Deid!"

"What?"

"_Dead!_" Kickick shouted, frustrated. Jack gave a small chuckle.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," he shrugged. "Now where is everyone and what kind of fun have I missed?"

-------------------------------------------------

Martha and Bronnin watched the three workers suddenly look up and begin walking to one side of the room. They heard voices, then a scuffle.

"Go," Martha barked, and they began hammering at the grating. It dropped to the floor with a crash and Bronnin swung her feet over the edge. Martha grabbed at her wrists as she turned and tried to lower herself through the floor.

She was still ten feet from the floor but just let go. She landed awkwardly and rolled to her side to try and cushion some of the force. She got to her feet quickly, looking around. Her mouth dropped open.

"Jack!" she shouted, confused. He was standing just twenty feet away, next to Kickick and Fergus, looking down at three insensate workers.

"Hey," he said, amused. "Watch out!"

She looked up as Martha's feet began to come through the hole. Jack rushed over and Bronnin stepped back. He put his arms out and grinned. Martha let herself go from the ceiling and landed heavily in his arms.

"Well, well, well," Jack grinned, "angels really _do_ fall from the sky sometimes."

"That was cheap," she tutted with a knowing grin, patting at his neck to let her down. He stood her up and she looked him up and down. "Are you alright?"

"As right as I'll ever be," he allowed. "You lot seem ok though?"

"We've cracked it – this is the main control room. We're to find the big off switch that will disrupt the carrier wave, powering all the soldiers and the two evil Hadoorians in charge," she said quickly.

"So where's the old man? Not like him to be beaten to the chase," he said suddenly, looking around.

"We don't know where he is," she admitted. There was a banging sound suddenly and everyone jumped. "Soldiers!" she blurted. "Find that bloody off switch, now!"

The five of them spread out and began poring over the huge control board, reading the switches or just simply looking for a giant red one with a plastic cover over it.

Martha pulled the phone from her pocket and dialled quickly, putting the phone to her ear as she searched.

"Come on, come on," she hissed.

But the phone just rang and rang.

-------------------------------------------------

_It's regret, mostly. Regret that I didn't chase up a few loose ends. That I never managed to get a replacement chameleon circuit, or at least find someone who could fix it._

_But who would even recognise it for what it is, let alone been able to repair it? It's just a circuit, just a tiny piece of a very large, complicated pattern, one that's really too old and definitely obsolete._

_Except for the fact that no-one survived to produce newer ones. So, therefore, it's not obsolete, per se, but rather a classic. There, that's much better. A classic. That's what we both are – classic. We're not thousand-year-old antiques, we're not the end of a long line of Time Keepers, we're–_

_Oh that's a good one – Time Keepers. Makes us sound like giant watches. Or is that watchers? Do we watch watches? Or do watches watch the watchers? Am I still here, or have I already died? I mean, properly died, not just regenerated. Cos, strictly speaking, if I'd regenerated, I wouldn't still be here, trying to remember what it is I should be doing. Wait, what was that? What's that? 'Regenerate?' Regenerate what?_

_This feels like… I should not be doing this. Is this how it feels to have your brain sucked out? Something like… Ooh, what's that… Can't make a coherent… End, then. Definite end. What? She'll be upset… Who will, again? Can't… _

The Doctor felt his eyes close suddenly.

He toppled backwards and landed heavily on the floor. The smack of the cold tiles to the back of his head told him he wasn't unconscious.

"Any more," he croaked, staring up at the ceiling and daring to believe he wasn't in some dreadful afterlife for lost regenerations.

He sat up slowly, cradling his head, realising he was still wearing some kind of air mask, and tried to sort out what had just happened.

_I came in here. I found the black hole generator. And I looked into it. I couldn't help it – I looked into it. Blimey, it was like being eight years old again._

That thought slapped him in the face and he sat up straight quickly, taking his hands from his head and looking around.

"Bronnin," he said urgently, getting up. "Martha!" he gasped, going through his pockets. "Mister Campbell!" he realised, pulling out the phone and flipping it open. He pressed the green button twice and hoped for the best.

"You!" Martha's voice said suddenly.

"Martha?" he asked, his head still foggy. "Martha Jones, where are you?"

"Where am _I_?" she snorted. "Where are _you_?"

"I'm… er… Kinda –"

"You alright, mate?" she asked quickly. "What's happened?" 

"I… found a black hole," he said simply. "It seems to be gone now, though."

"I should hope so!" said a new voice down the phone. "We shut off the power, just a minute ago."

"Jack! Back again?" he cried cheerfully.

"Again and again," he sighed. "The gang's all here, and we're fine. Can we leave now?"

"Oh yes!" he cried with conviction. "We have to get everyone back inside the TARDIS before the machine goes offline. Oh!"

"Don't worry, we have that too," Jack said cheekily down the phone. "Head for the lifts, we'll find you."

"Aye-aye Captain," he grinned, snapping the phone closed and looking around for an exit door.

-------------------------------------------------

He hurried to the lifts, slapping the button and waiting. The lift came and he picked up the litter bin next to the doors, putting it in the doorway and watching the doors clamp it tightly.

"Stay," he said sternly, pointing at the bin. Then he turned and ran back through the room, sprinting through two more before he skidded to a stop.

He looked around the control room, his eyes drawn to the huge motherboard of switches and panels. He smiled, rubbed his hands together eagerly, and approached it with caution.

He leaned over it, looking over the toggle switches and push-buttons, his eyes devouring the symbols and strange words easily. He found the small, innocuous-looking button and pulled out his screwdriver, looking round for more tools. Then he got to work.


	15. Chapter 15

**TWENTY-NINE**

The group back-tracked through the rooms, wondering why they hadn't met with any resistance. Jack led the way, his revolver safely back in his own hand, opening each door and looking round cautiously.

"Well that answers that question," he said to himself, and Fergus pushed his head through next to him.

He looked in and saw the group of soldiers lying on the floor, apparently out for the count.

"Are thi all like that?" he asked quietly.

"Should be," Jack allowed. "As long as they were all powered by the same router, we're good to go."

"Hmm," Fergus observed, before pulling his head back and looking at the three girls. Bronnin and Martha had the machine strapped to a wooden board, carrying it easily between them. "Looks like it worked. Now all we huv tae dae is get back tae thi TARDIS."

"Well let's not hang about," Martha said, "this place gives me the creeps anyway."

Fergus turned back and Jack had already gone. He followed, the two girls carrying the machine next, and Kickick bringing up the rear.

They crept through the building easily, finding soldiers similarly strewn about. Fergus watched every one carefully, expecting them to twitch or move. But Jack waved them on, watching ahead and harrying them through the place.

"Just a question," Fergus said quietly as they made it to the lifts. He leaned on the button meaningfully.

"One," Jack smiled slightly, still looking around the room.

"We saw yi die, Jack. We _saw_ yi. There wasnae any doubt at all, pal. Yi wir deid as George Best's balls. And noe hir yi are, as if nothing's happened. Hoe is that possible?" he asked quietly.

Jack sighed, but didn't take his eyes from the room. The lift doors pinged and opened. The group shuffled inside quickly, but Fergus watched Jack press the bottom button and then just stand back.

"Well?" he prompted.

Jack looked at him, then spared Martha a glance.

"To be honest, I don't really know," he said, shrugging. Martha shifted the board in her hands slightly, getting more comfortable.

"He's been like this a while," she admitted. Fergus looked at her.

"Yi knew aboot this?" he asked, surprised.

"I did. I learnt the hard way, too," she pointed out. "Him and the Doctor are like this secret little club, they share all the stuff they don't want mere mortals to know about," she teased, but there was something in her wary look at the Captain.

"Can we just go?" Jack said wearily, as the lift hit the bottom. The doors opened and he pushed out first, watching the lobby carefully. He waved them out and they poured out, hurrying toward the doors.

"We should huv transport," Fergus observed, over-taking Jack and walking outside.

The rest of them followed, finding him with his head in the broken window of an armoured jeep, getting the door open. He climbed in and disappeared under the steering wheel. A few moments later the jeep roared into life and he sat up again, grinning.

"You are full of surprises," Jack smiled, waving the girls over.

"So where's thi Skipper?" Fergus asked, watching them all climb in, being careful not to jog the machine.

"Good question," Jack said, stepping back out of the vehicle. He looked back at Fergus. "You get them all back to the TARDIS. Get in and wait for us," he said quickly.

"Noe wait a minute!" Fergus protested, but he looked back at him.

"Look after them – and that machine," he said simply. Fergus bit his lip, then nodded.

"Alright. But yi just make sure yi get him back hir. If yi don't, Ah'm never gonnae forgive yi," he said firmly. He looked away quickly and gunned the engine, checking the girls were all seated before taking off across the field.

Jack watched him go, then sniffed in his mask and looked back at the building.

"No," he said sadly, "me neither."

-------------------------------------------------

Jack walked through the door and someone shouted. He jumped, surprised, cursing himself for not checking.

A shot went off and slammed into the wall behind his head. He dived for the floor, looking round at the black boots of the soldiers, counting feet. He slithered under the table and grabbed an ankle.

The soldier wobbled and fell. Jack grabbed him by the throat and then his gun. He wrenched it round and squeezed off a shot.

The soldier had barely stopped twitching before Jack rolled off him and to his back. Two soldiers were pointing weapons down at him. He fired twice and they fell.

Jack pushed himself to his feet, looking at the rifle in his hands and grinning.

"Right," he said decisively, turning and heading on to the next room.

-------------------------------------------------

Fergus stopped the jeep and looked at the TARDIS.

"We huv tae find a wae tae fix that door," he said determinedly, jumping out and helping the girls out with the machine. Kickick ducked into the ship through the left door, still hanging from its hinges. She turned and pulled at it, trying to move it out of the way for the others.

Fergus crossed to the door and helped her, dragging the door more upright and walking it backwards. Martha and Bronnin carried the machine in and didn't stop, taking it up the ramp and depositing it on the grating where it had once been.

"Right," Martha said, wiping her hands together and looking at Bronnin. She was looking down the ramp at the other two, struggling with the door.

"They broke the door," she said plaintively, and Martha looked at them, then back at her.

"I wouldn't worry. This thing is older than the Doctor, and _he's_ still going," she said encouragingly.

"But will she still fly with one door off?" she said suddenly, worried.

"Yes," Martha said clearly. "Don't worry." She looked down the ramp now, watching Fergus detach the door completely and heft it slowly into the ship. He leaned it against the inside wall, wiping his hands and stepping back to look at it.

"Ah need a hammer," he said to himself, then looked at Kickick. He crossed to her, patted her shoulder reassuringly, then slid his hand down her arm and walked off up the ramp. He disappeared into the bowels of the ship and the three girls looked at the door forlornly.

-------------------------------------------------

The door creaked open and Jack put his head round, his eyes running round the room. He saw the control console, the desks and random chairs, and paused.

Something had moved.

His eyes swept over the room again more carefully, scrutinising what it could have been.

_If the guards are up and around again, either someone's turned this thing back on, or they were never powered by the same carrier wave in the first place._

He heard a shuffling noise and spared his rifle a glance, checking the power meter. It was still nearly full.

He moved into the room silently, letting the door almost close. He shifted over to the nearest desk, bobbing down and looking underneath at the entire floor. He half expected the boots of twenty soldiers to be waiting for him.

He found nothing.

Except the door at the far end banging closed. He grinned an evil approximation and got to his feet, hurrying through the room and stopping just behind the door.

He gripped the butt and the barrel of the rifle securely, then stood back and lifted a boot. He smacked it into the door.

The door wanged open and crashed into the wall behind. He had a moment to look surprised.

Then the shot hit him the chest and he was pushed off his feet.

"Bitch," he managed, and died.

Inda grinned wickedly, lowering her handgun.

"You fleshy bipedal monstrosities," she scoffed.

There was a slight noise and she looked to her right. Far too late.

A metal chair swung round at impossible speed. It slammed into her head and neck. She was propelled off her feet and flew backwards into the wall. She walloped into it at speed, sliding down and landing on her back.

She sniffed and rolled to get up.

But a foot appeared on her wrist. She hesitated, surprised.

It was a shoe. A black shoe. It had a wide white toe-tip, impossibly long, messy laces, and mud spattered round the much-loved white sides, just where the black piping edged it off.

"I wouldn't," the Doctor said heavily, and she looked up, finding him much taller from her disadvantaged point.

"You again," she spat. "Why did you come back here? You'd already taken the machine, hadn't you?" she demanded.

"I'm hoping the machine's back on my ship right now, yes," he said stonily. "I came back to stop you turning the control board back on. Seems I was too late," he allowed.

"Idiot," she snorted. "This is the _main_ control board, but we have a remote."

"So you and Shorty back there turned it on from the safety of his office?" he pressed. "Cos you don't use the same carrier wave for your own power?"

"We did. Did you think we'd be stupid enough to share the same carrier wave?" she laughed. "We have battery back-ups, complete system independence. These units can survive for up to two months without a re-charge."

"That's handy," he said, crouching and flicking on his screwdriver.

"What's that?" she demanded, unnerved.

"Oh, nothing really," he allowed, running it down the side of her head. She twitched slightly.

"What have you done?" she shrieked. "What have you done to me?"

"Disabled the re-charge unit," he said pleasantly. "You no longer have a charge meter, or a power indicator, or in fact anything that can tell you how much power you have left. Oh, and no way to enable it again so you can re-charge."

He stood again slowly, but his foot remained on her wrist.

"You've killed me!" she shrieked, beginning to struggle. "Undo it!"

"You've got two months to live," he said simply, removing his foot. He turned away and began to walk for the door back to the main control console. She sat up quickly.

"You murderer!" she shouted at his back. "How can you leave me like this!"

He stopped. It was a long moment before he turned slowly. The look with which he pinned her made even her cybernetic skin want to shrink.

"You've destroyed entire systems. You've wiped out _worlds_ and killed millions of beings," he breathed slowly. Then his nastily bared teeth shone evilly in the office lights. "_Who cares what happens to you!_" he roared.

She swallowed and inched backwards on the floor, finding the wall in her back.

He stared at her for a further moment, and she couldn't move for the terror that gripped her.

"You've got two months. You're lucky you've even got that," he seethed through gritted teeth. He turned his back deliberately and walked off.

She fell sideways and to her hands and knees. She scrabbled forwards and snatched up her fallen gun. She got up quickly and aimed it.

"_You_ haven't!" she shouted.

She fired.


	16. Chapter 16

**THIRTY**

The little old man pushed the doors open to the office angrily, marching down the corridor and finding the lift. He punched at the button with this thumb, shoving his hands in his pockets and tutting to himself.

The lift opened and he walked in, pressing the button and watching the doors close.

He rode it all the way down to the laboratory, waiting for the doors to open. They did and he moved to step out.

"Don't!" Jack shouted, pointing the rifle at him. He grinned.

"Ah. Seems we rather have a situation here," he allowed.

"Don't I know it. Get your ass out here right now," he barked.

The little man shrugged, shuffling out and putting his hands up slowly. He sniffed as he walked round, taking in the room and then looking back at the Captain.

"And who might you be?" he asked.

"I'm a friend of the Doctor," he said harshly. "And I don't mind telling you, I'm glad I've got this chance."

"What chance is that?" he asked pleasantly.

"I've already taken care of your lovely assistant, and I'm more than willing to take care of you too," he snapped.

"What?" the man gasped. Jack nodded with his head to one side.

The man turned and spotted the inert form of Inda, a huge blast hole in her shoulder, right where a main power unit should have been.

"Inda!" he cried, distraught, forgetting all about Jack. He turned and ran over, dropping to his knees and snatching her up, holding her in his arms. He wailed in anguish, turning her head to look at him. "Inda! Inda my darling, what have they done to you!"

He began to weep, and for a long moment Jack hesitated. Then he let out a breath, shook his head, and looked down at the rifle. He slipped the strap round him to sling the gun across his back and turned away.

"You!" the man shouted, and Jack stopped. "Do you have any idea what you've done!"

"Some," he admitted, looking back at him.

"We've been together for years! Years! This is her second body! I've known her in _two_ life-times! _Two!_ Do you have _any_ idea what that means?" he sobbed.

"Yeah, actually," he said harshly, "I think I do."

He turned and crouched down next to the Doctor, sitting with his back against the wall, his pallid face covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looked down him to his leg, his tuxedo trousers drenched in blood, the blast hole from Inda's shot covered over with Jack's light blue shirt.

He put a hand on his shoulder, making the Time Lord open his eyes.

"Don't regenerate just yet," he warned. "We're not far from home."

"If you say so," he managed painfully. "Jack," he said suddenly, and the Captain waited. The Doctor lifted the screwdriver, handing it to him and closing his hand round it. "Switch it off."

"What?" he asked, looking at the screwdriver.

"Switch off his charge adapter," he said more firmly, his eyes focusing much more easily. "Don't let him do this to another syst-"

"It doesn't matter where you go!" the man said suddenly, laying Inda's shut-off body down on the floor. "I'll find you! I'll hunt you down! You can't just leave me here without her! There _is_ nothing without her!" he shouted, getting to his feet.

Jack turned. He lifted the rifle and fired once.

The little man was pushed off his feet with the force of the shot. He was blown onto his back, landing just inches from Inda.

His eyes fluttered. His fingers reached out and grasped Inda's firmly, and he smiled slightly.

Then he let out a long breath. His eyes closed, and a small power whine, almost undetectable before, slowed and stopped.

"_Now_ we can leave," Jack said slowly, taking a deep breath and huffing.

"Jack!" the Doctor protested. "Every time! All you had to do was–"

"Sorry Doctor, this is one of those times where we'll have to agree to disagree," he said firmly. "She nearly killed you, and if I hadn't been there, she would have got in another shot. So trust me on this – it's better for all concerned now they're both dead."

"That's never better for all concerned," he pointed out pedantically, but he didn't meet the Captain's eyes. Jack smiled slyly.

"You know, I think I've figured out why you like having me around," he offered.

"Who says I like having you around?" the Doctor protested. "You nick things from my ship and then blame me when they don't work, after all."

"Yeah, yeah," Jack smiled, waving it off. "You just like having someone around who'll do the things you wish you could, but just can't."

"Like shoot people for no reason?"

"Like shoot people for attempting to shoot us both, after they engineered God-knows how many genocidal campaigns – which we both know they'd just start all over again," he pointed out, annoyed now.

The Doctor heaved a sigh. "Well, what's done is done," he managed.

"So let's get out of here already," Jack said, frustrated.

"After we've destroyed the motherboard," the Doctor warned. "Come on, make yourself useful – get me up," he ordered.

"Aye-Aye Skipper," he said cheekily, helping him to his feet.

-------------------------------------------------

Fergus and Kickick stood back from the doors, admiring their handiwork.

"No bad, hen, no bad," he said proudly, putting the large screwdriver back in the toolbox and nodding to himself.

"Do you think he'll notice?" Bronnin asked with a smile, folding her arms and coming down the ramp to inspect the re-hung door.

"Naw," Fergus said with a confident grin, "he'll be too busy havering aboot thi fact he's oot of milk."

"Really," Martha said with a raised eyebrow. "Twenty quid says he notices it before he even gets to the Time Rotor," she grinned.

"Done," Fergus said immediately. Then he clapped his hands together, twisting and rubbing them. "Well then – looks like wir leaving hir sharpish. Ah should find ma things, get ready fae thi off."

He walked past them all and disappeared into the ship.

Martha walked back to the Time Rotor slowly, thinking. Bronnin looked at Kickick for a long moment, and the older sister turned her big, sad eyes on her sibling.

"What do I do?" Kickick whispered, torn. Bronnin opened her mouth but didn't know what to say.

"Talk to him," Martha said sadly. "Whether you take him home, or he takes you home, you have to make it clear. Are you both leaving, or are you both staying?" she said slowly. "Just make sure it's what you really want."

Kickick looked over at her, then nodded slowly. She looked at Bronnin once, then straightened her shoulders and walked up the ramp. She turned to the right and followed the corridor away from the main room.

Bronnin looked up at Martha. They shared a long look.

-------------------------------------------------

"Fergus?" Kickick asked, wandering into his big room and finding him sat on the bed. He was holding something small in his hands and she walked over, sitting next to him. "What's that?"

"Just a… a fossilised ka'charn egg," he shrugged. "We wir on this really, really weird planet, hen. All jungle and strange wee birds. Ah'd never seen anything like it – but thi Skipper, he'd been thir before, Ah think. He must huv been. We hiked fae a bit, fell into some rock-pools, dried oot in thi four suns, thi usual," he grinned, still watching the stone-like egg in his hands. "And he sat on this thing, moaned and complained aboot the damned thing, and then he recognised it fae what it was. He gave it tae me. Said no-one else in this universe had one, and if Ah didnae like it Ah could always use it as a paper-weight."

He grinned at it, turning it round in his hands slowly.

"Och, yi should huv seen his face hen. He loves tae share," he sighed, shaking his head. "We've had some good times… Some very good times." He paused, grinning as he looked up and around. "Ah remember, on this wee place called Cmrthu, we've went skiing and he's went arse over tit intae a bush. Ah couldnae get him oot fae laughing. And thi pub quiz on Streeathne – we've clocked thi other team are cheating, so–"

"Fergus," she said gently, and he stopped, nodding and looking down at the egg again.

"Aye," he said, reaching out and putting it back on the side table. "Maybe Ah'll leave him that, eh? After all, a sacrifice isnae meant to be easy."

He went to get up but she put her hand out, taking his and stopping him from standing up.

"Fergus," she said resolutely. He waited. "Look, there's something we never… There's something we never clarified between us."

"What's that?" he asked warily, watching her fingers close through his.

"It's just that… I know you love this life here. And I know you love him. And I know that you belong here."

"Are yi–"

"Fergus, just shut up and listen," she sighed sadly. He closed his mouth. "What I'm trying to say is, I want to go home. I can't do this, I can't stay in this crazy life you two have."

"Well that's easily solved," he said, puzzled. "Ah'm coming wi' you."

She smiled, but shook her head.

"No. No, you're not."

"What? Ah'm no leaving yi, hen! Ah _love_ you!" Fergus protested. She looked at him, letting go of his hand and instead putting hers to his face.

"I know. And I love you, that's why I can't let you stay on Romm with me," she said firmly.

"What!"

"You love me, Fergus, I know you do. But you love something more. You love the travel, the excitement, the changing worlds every day. How can I take you away from that? How can I ask you to leave it all behind, and _him_, just to stay on my boring old homeworld with me?"

"Yi don't huv to ask me anything, Ah'm going with yi cos Ah want to!" he cried desperately. She patted his face gently, shaking her head.

"No, you're not," she said firmly. "You'd be alright for a while – maybe even a year. And then what? You'd be staring up at the stars – the ones you know because you've_ been_ there, or at least the versions of them from your own side of the universe. And after a time you'd be upset you left them all for me–"

"Yi don't knoe what yir saying, hen," he interrupted.

"I do, Fergus. Trust me. I have to go, and I can't let you come with me. We just don't belong with each other. Not right now."

She watched him, knowing there was water in her eyes. He stared back at her, looking for all the world like he'd been slapped.

"So… yir no changing yir mind?" he managed quietly. He cleared his throat swiftly, waiting.

"No."

"We don't huv tae go tae Romm – we could go somewhere–"

"No, Fergus. I just want to go home. I know I'm not cut out for this. But you _are_, and you should stay here and do all those amazing things." She smiled slightly. "You know, every time I look up at stars, I'll think of you. I'll think of how pale they are, compared to you."

She kissed him lightly, pulling his head back and letting go. She got up to leave.

He stood quickly, pulling on her arm.

"Kee," he said quickly. "Ah've never said this tae a girl before," he managed, looking at his feet. "But… if Ah let yi go, it'll break ma heart."

She found a tear on her face and wiped it away. She swallowed to recover her voice.

"Oh Fergus," she sighed. "There'll be others."

"Are yi so sure?" he challenged, hurt. She smiled.

"Yes," she said cheerfully. "Yes, Fergus, I am. Because you're you." She stepped up to him and kissed him with conviction.

She drew her head away eventually, putting her arms round him and hugging him tightly. Then she stepped back, feeling his hands slide over her dress for the last time.

"So unpack your things. When they all get back, they can drop us off on Romm, and you can get back to the exciting part of your life."

She smiled impishly, then turned and walked out quickly.


	17. Chapter 17

**THIRTY**

Jack stumbled, the Doctor's left arm out and over his shoulder, landing heavily against the doors of the TARDIS.

"Come on guys! A little help!" he shouted through the door.

"I've got a key somewhere," the Time Lord grumbled. "Oh! You know what? I want my suit back!" he cried irritably, feeling into his dimensionally-challenged tuxedo trousers and not finding anything at all.

"I don't know," Jack grinned. "That tux kinda suits you."

"Door," the Doctor sighed wearily, and Jack laughed. He leaned on it and banged.

"Hey! Anybody in! We're dying out here!" he grinned.

The right hand door opened and Bronnin gasped, looking the pair of them up and down before stepping back for them.

She found the Doctor in his now very shabby dress shirt that was missing a few buttons, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tux trousers were dusty, creased, and Jack's blue shirt was tied tightly round his left leg just above the knee.

Jack himself appeared to have gallons of dried blood on his braces and white t-shirt, and then some more on his brown trousers. His t-shirt had two large ragged holes in it, and he was sporting a large rifle across his back on a strap.

He helped the Doctor walk inside and held him upright, pausing at the bottom of the ramp.

"What happened to _you_?" Martha called from the Time Rotor, coming down the ramp quickly.

"Never mind me, what's going on here?" the Doctor asked, looking around. "What's with the dodgy lighting? Why's the power off?" he demanded, his voice at the highest pitch as he pulled off the air mask finally. His eyes caught something. "And who re-hung that door – Bob the Builder after five pints? It's terrible!" he protested.

Martha laughed out loud and looked back at Fergus. He smiled slightly, and Martha let her grin die, looking away again.

"That's a long story, mate," she said confidently. "Seriously, what did you two get up to?"

"Can we get moving first?" the Time Lord said, trying to let go of Jack to hobble by himself. But his leg gave slightly.

"Woah!" Jack observed, grabbing his arm to hold him up. "First Martha's going to take a look at that leg, and then we're going to work out where we're going. Ok?"

"Yeah, let's just get going," Fergus put in quietly. Bronnin turned and looked at him, then at Martha.

"Sounds good. Jack, Fergus, can you help me get him to his room."

"Hold on!" the Doctor called, suddenly loudly, and everyone paused. "_First_ I have to get us off this ball before the power in that machine drains away. We've got about ten minutes before the bubble, Glasgow, and what they've done to _this_ planet never was. So let me get us into the vortex before a large shopping centre appears on the roof."

"Fair enough," Jack said, helping him up the ramp and to the Time Rotor.

-------------------------------------------------

Fergus sat on the high chair, swinging his legs and leaning forward onto the console, staring at it but not seeing anything.

Martha walked up behind him, watching the Time Rotor plunge up and down confidently, the blue-green light bathing the room in peaceful efficiency. She put a hand on his shoulder and he lifted his head slightly, turning it to look at her.

"Oh, it's you," he said, relieved. "Hoe is thi old man?"

"He's fine," she said easily, walking round him and jumping up on to the chair next to him. "Looked worse than it was – it was just a deep flesh wound, really. He's feeling better for a hot shower and a clean suit," she smiled.

"Good," he allowed, nodding as he looked up at the Rotor. They watched it rise and fall, let the sound of the universe blank out their thoughts for a long few minutes.

"So… you're doing the right thing, you know," she offered quietly.

"Really?" he asked. She put her hand on his shoulder again.

"Yes," she said clearly. "If you love someone, set them free," she said lamely.

"Ah don't knoe," he sighed. "Where am Ah gonnae find another girl like her?"

"You're not," she said truthfully, "and you wouldn't want to. Not really. You'll meet someone else, Fergus. Someone different."

"Aye," he allowed. "So they all sae."

They heard voices and looked round to see Bronnin and Jack walking into the room.

"But not when you need the power feed _under_ twenty-six!" Bronnin said, frustrated. "And you _don't_ go round swapping anodised power couplings for straight fours."

"But it'd work if you just spliced the wires with a few Derrainian fuses," Jack protested.

"Oh Jack, you have a lot to learn about matter converters," she sighed, wiping her face. She looked up and found Martha and Fergus watching them.

"You know," Martha said with a cheeky grin, "Jack has a lot of science stuff back at his place. Don't you Jack?"

"Me? Sweetheart, I _am_ a lot of science stuff," he grinned. "I've been trying to get her to come back with me for the last hour. She's not having it, but I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Well that must be only thing you _don't_," Bronnin said, then closed her mouth quickly. "I'm sorry!"

But Jack was laughing fit to burst, making Martha giggle. Fergus managed a smile at least.

"Bron, if you _don't_ come back with me, it'd be the biggest travesty since the Vigallian Pleasure Complex kicked me out of their country club," he laughed.

"I'm going to stay with my sister for a while," she said. "She needs me."

Jack nodded, letting his smile fade. "Well don't say I didn't beg you," he shrugged.

"You didn't," she said, confused.

Jack put his hand to her face and turned her toward him. He kissed her, and Martha and Fergus looked up at the ceiling, rolling their eyes. Fergus rubbed a finger in his right one absently, shaking his head, as Martha clucked her tongue in the roof of her mouth quietly, sniffing and looking at the monitor read-outs.

Eventually Jack let Bronnin go, looking at her knowingly.

"Lady, that's the closest I come to begging," he said suavely.

Bronnin just stared straight at him, apparently unable to control anything outside of her brain.

Martha cleared her throat and folded her arms, and Jack winked at Bronnin before walking over to look over Martha's shoulder.

Bronnin managed to swallow and swayed dangerously to turn toward the Time Rotor. She put her hands to it and tried to concentrate on staying upright.

"We're nearly there," Martha pointed out. "Do you want to tell him, or shall I?"

Jack patted her shoulder, then turned and walked out again. Martha looked up at Bronnin and hid a grin at the vacant look on her face.

-------------------------------------------------

Jack swung the door open and leaned in, finding the Doctor already sitting on the bed, struggling to do a shoelace up. It required bending his leg and it obviously hurt.

"Oh," Jack said, disappointed, and the Time Lord looked up to see him walking over.

"What?" he asked with a small smile, as the once Time Agent crouched in front of him and did his lace up quickly and easily.

"I only volunteered to come get you cos I thought you might need help getting dressed," he joked.

"Why would I let you help me when it's clear that most days you can't even dress yourself?" the Gallifreyan quipped, pushing himself to his feet and pulling his brown suit straight, hissing at the slight pain in his left leg.

"_Most_ days? Hey, I've gone entire weeks where other beings have competed for the privilege of dressing _me_ in the morning," he grinned. "There was this one guy on Oradannang Three, man, he had–"

"Lovely, I'm sure," the Doctor interrupted with a slight grimace, letting his hands slide into his pockets and hobbling for the door.

"Ah – wait," he said quickly, running up and closing the door quickly. "There's something you should know before you walk out there and say something hurtful."

"What? Why would I do that?" he asked, his indignant tone reaching new octaves.

"Let's face it – you don't _try_ to hurt people's feelings, you just _do_," he pointed out quickly. "What I'm trying to tell you is that Kickick and Bronnin are going back to Romm."

"Well I hope so – we should be a few minutes away from the place, so–"

"No, Doctor," he said pointedly. "Fergus is staying here."

"What?" he asked, confused. "I thought he said–"

"Well something's happened and now he's not leaving."

"_What_ happened?" he stressed. "I thought he'd fallen in love with that girl and was off to have this adventurous life all in one place." He paused, his gaze flicking to one side absently. "Which wouldn't be an altogether bad thing, after all. She seems nice enough, and he's just lucky he can do this for a whole life and know that–"

"Doctor," Jack interrupted, and the Gallifreyan looked back at him. "The point _is_, just don't talk to the poor guy. Just let the two girls off and do not talk to him. Alright?"

"Why not?" he asked, offended.

"That part of the conversation where I mentioned you hurting people's feelings by accident? Were you here for that?" he asked deliberately.

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. Look, just do what you do with your amazing box and leave him to it, ok?" he said carefully.

"Yep. Ok. Absolutely," he said brightly, then sniffed and walked round the Captain. He opened the door and Jack followed cautiously.


	18. Chapter 18

**THIRTY-TWO**

"Right then, here we are," the Doctor said cheerfully, the Time Rotor slowing to a stop. He straightened up slowly and his hands went into his dimensionally-exponential pockets as he looked around at the people in the TARDIS.

Jack was standing just behind Martha, his arms folded over a fresh white shirt purloined from the TARDIS's massive wardrobe. Kickick and Bronnin were walking down to the doors, trying to pretend they weren't dragging their feet.

Bronnin turned and looked round, finding the Doctor's face and smiling warmly. He just nodded, but she put her hand up and tipped her finger at him.

Martha looked over at Fergus, watching the railings on the ramp resolutely. She turned to Jack and put her hands on his arm, pushing. He took her hint and put his arm round her shoulder, walking her off and back into the depths of the ship.

The Doctor wandered down the ramp slowly, hands in his pockets, his gait a little thrown off by the wobble in his left leg. He stopped in front of Bronnin, looking apologetic.

"I don't know what to say," she smiled up at him, shaking her head. "I cannot think of anything that would mean something. After all I've seen, after all we've done, what _is_ there to say?" she whispered. She felt her throat a little tight and swallowed to relax it deliberately.

"How about… uhhm… 'I never want to see another Dark Matter machine as long as I live'?" he smiled.

"Yes," she said, nodding. She put her hands out and put them to the lapels on his brown suit jacket firmly, tugging him slightly closer to her. "Thank you," she said cheerfully, letting her hands go to his loosened tie and push it to the left gently to straighten it. "Thank you for everything. Everything you've said, and helped, and done, and fixed, and seen, and… and for being you."

She put her arms round him and pressed herself to his suit, and he put his arms round her gratefully. He leaned his cheek on her head, closing his eyes for a long moment.

"You know," he said, opening his eyes but not letting go, "if ever you get bored, I could just come back."

"Well you never know," she said bravely, holding onto him, "I just might."

She counted the seconds, knowing they were ticking away and there was nothing she could do to stop them. She felt herself sniff and pulled her arms from him slowly. She looked up at him, putting her hands to his face and kissing him firmly by the mouth.

"Take care, Time Lord," she said quietly. She turned away quickly, went to Fergus, and hugged him tightly. "And you."

She pulled herself away and hurried to the doors, opening the right one and stepping out quickly. She pulled it closed behind her and leaned back on it, willing herself not to cry.

The Doctor's large eyes bored into the door, the impulse to call her back suddenly very distinct and almost unstoppable.

But he made himself turn away slowly, looking back up toward the Time Rotor.

He felt a hand on his arm and turned again. Kickick smiled at him sadly.

"She's really going to miss you," she said kindly. "We both are."

"Yeah," he allowed, letting out a faltering sigh. She pulled him into a hug and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Look after Fergus for me," she whispered, then squeezed him once and pulled him away. "And be more careful. He'd be lost if anything happened to you."

"Don't look back. Have fun," he offered warmly, and she smiled. She let go of him and he walked away, up to the Time Rotor, looking over the controls.

She turned and walked back down the doors, hearing Fergus walk up behind her.

"It's no too late tae change yi mind, hen," he said cheerfully, and she smiled.

"I can't, Fergus. This is the best way for both of us. I'll think of you every day," she said, putting her hands out and round him.

He crushed her against him, dreading the moment he knew he'd have to let go.

"Ah'll love yi more tomorrow," he whispered.

She let out a small giggle but it sounded laced with tears. She sniffed and pulled herself from him slowly.

"I know you will," she said firmly, then kissed him briefly. "And maybe some day, when you're tired of this and need somewhere to stop and rest, you'll come and find me."

"If yi'd still want me, all tired oot and knackered," he joked. She nodded.

"Oh I would." She stepped back, putting her hand out to the door. "Goodbye, Fergus Campbell. My hero," she added cheekily, turning and hurrying through the door. She slammed it shut behind her.

Fergus let his hands slide into his pockets silently, watching his feet. He blew out a long sigh, but he didn't move.

"I, ah…" the Doctor began uncertainly.

"Leave it," Fergus said quietly.

"Well, you know, better to have loved and lost, than–"

"Get tae fuck."

"Yeah. Quite right. Sorry," the Doctor said awkwardly. There was a long moment of silence. The Time Lord put his hands in his pockets and hobbled almost smoothly down the ramp, standing behind the younger man silently.

"Forget it. Ah'm sorry, man," Fergus said suddenly. "That was really oot of order, what Ah said just noe." He cleared his throat, still staring at the blue doors. "Ah just keep forgetting – Ah shouldn't expect you tae understand what Ah'm feeling right noe. Yir lucky, yi knoe," he said suddenly. "Yi'll never huv tae do this, tae anyone."

"Uhhm–"

"Never huv tae sae goodbye tae thi one girl yi loved."

"Well, you'd be surpri–"

"Skipper, leave it. Ah knoe yir only trying tae help, but really – and don't take this thi wrong wae – but hoe am Ah supposed tae believe yi could knoe what it's like?" he said, his voice bitter.

There was a long silence. Then Fergus was surprised to hear the Doctor's soft voice from right behind him.

"It's the worst feeling in _all_ the worlds. In any life."

Fergus turned and looked at him, and the Time Lord was disturbed, but not surprised, by the water in the young Scot's eyes. He frowned at him, his eyes wide with worry, and Fergus took a deep breath uncertainly.

"Don't tell me yi'v actually fallen fae some lassie at some point in yir thousand years?" he said recklessly, his voice full of despair. He sounded past caring.

The Doctor held his gaze for a long second. "Like you wouldn't believe," he admitted quietly.

Fergus squeezed his eyes shut, determined not to let the tears fall. Before he knew it, he'd put a hand out and clamped it round the taller man's.

The Doctor simply wheezed out a sigh, managing to convey more sympathy, more anguish and more understanding in that one sound than anyone could have jammed into a thousand words.

He put his arms round Fergus and the young man grabbed onto him, steadying his breathing and willing himself not to spill any tears.

It was quiet a long few minutes.

At last Fergus opened his eyes.

"Skipper," he said quietly, his voice slightly muffled. "If anyone _ever_ asks, this never happened."

"Of course," the Doctor said, hiding a grin as he let go of the young man. He stood back one, looking up at the Time Lord a little differently now.

"So… after you'd left that wee lassie behind, what did yi dae next?" he asked bravely.

"I let the TARDIS pick a new destination, and went wherever she took me," he said knowingly. "Which… if I remember rightly… turned out to be… Wester Drumlins, in London," he said.

"Och awae and–. Ah'm no going tae London!" he said testily. "Ah want some far awae planet full of sex goddesses and beer!"

"Really?" the Doctor asked carefully. "A whole planet full of sex goddesses and–"

"Aye – and no brown ones, neither," he bit out sourly. The Doctor watched him with large, apologetic eyes for a moment, until Fergus looked up.

"A _pale_ girl?" the Doctor offered slowly. Fergus thought about it.

"In a blue room," he said grudgingly.

"With a pink dress?" he offered, starting to smile.

"And a wide smile," Fergus said, his face brightening.

"You've got a little way to go before you?"

"Find thi knowledge that yir searching for, so ye?"

"Turn the big world upside down just to?"

"Find thi things that yi never wanted!" Fergus chuckled. He threw his head back, as did the Doctor, and they took deep breaths.

"_To see a pale girl in a blue room with a pink dress and a wide smile!_" they sang together raucously. "_I need a pink smile on a dark night from the right girl to make sure it's right!_" they continued, trying to sing louder than the other."_You've got three million things to get mad about_! _Another hundred things to get glad about_!"

Jack's head appeared round the frame to the main room, quickly followed by Martha's, and they watched, clueless.

"_Junk food, the whole world over's good as standing round – so baby twist and shout! Baby _– _find out baby – find out–_" the two men sang, oblivious of their audience.

"Do you think this a private party, or can anyone join in?" Jack hissed from the corner of his mouth to Martha. She shrugged, grinning.

"_So it's April and the things you say don't_?" the Doctor sang.

"_Seem as certain as on Hogmanay_!" Fergus sang, chuckling. "_Kissed at midnight and a wee wee Bell's gave me courage for ma_–"

Jack put his fingers in his mouth and blew out a piercing whistle.

"Hey fellas!" he called, coming out from round the corner and pulling Martha with him. The Time Lord and the Scot just looked over, Fergus clearing his throat and looking at his feet. The Doctor simply sniffed.

"Oh, Jack, Martha, er, we were, er–"

"Whatever," Jack grinned, waving his hands at him. "I was just going to ask for a lift home."

"What, now?" Martha asked, surprised.

"Well yeah," he said. "I've got people to look after – and you've got patients to see to," he pointed out.

Martha looked back at the Doctor guiltily.

"He's right, I do," she said sadly.

"If it helps," the Gallifreyan said, swishing from side to side slowly with a face sparkling with mischief, "I _can_ travel in time."

She laughed out loud for a long moment, then put her hands up in surrender.

"Ok, fine!" she laughed. "But if I'm going on one more trip, then so is _he_," she said, chucking a thumb at Jack.

Jack put his hands on his hips, thinking.

"Well… ok. But just _one_," he said. The Doctor grinned, running up the ramp – only slightly fazed by the wobbly knee – and began wrenching controls and turning knobs and levers.

"Can't imagine you've used that line much," the Time Lord chuckled, and Jack tutted. "Oh but wait," he said suddenly. He thought for a second. "Fish and chips! We need to go and get four suppers – three fish, one sausage – right now."

"Why?" Jack asked, lost.

"Because Jack has fish – that's the fourth supper!" he cried, snapping his fingers and laughing.

"Woah woah woah," Fergus said, drawing everyone's attention. "You, me, him and her?" he prompted, and the Doctor nodded. "In thi same TARDIS?"

"Oh come on, Mister Campbell," he said grandly, but Fergus put a finger up.

"It's Fergus," he stressed. The Doctor nodded slowly, then grinned.

"_Fergus_," he corrected. "Us four together? In the same TARDIS? What's the worst that could happen?"

**THE END**

**THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT**


End file.
